The Ring of a Bell
by Daughter of the Black
Summary: Bells are the start and end of many things. Before Kenzi knows it, she is bundled up in the ring of the bell. This is the subtle and not so subtle courtship of Kenzi & Dyson. [Holiday Fic 2013]
1. The Bracelet

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_01 December, 2013_

It sparkled in the light of the dim side-table lamp, the soft clink of beads clicking against each other as they were passed through calloused fingers. A soft sigh and another pull of a near-empty beer found the delicate silver and frosty pink bracelet settled on the wood counter. It was tiny, made for someone much smaller and much more feminine than the man drinking his way through his indecision about the thing.

It was stupid, it was just a bracelet after all, he decided. A bracelet he had bought on a whim because it reminded him of her. A whim he had tucked away in his safe along with his clan tartan, his clan sword, and other things that would likely never see the light of day again.

He plucked the bracelet from the counter and ran his fingers across the silver branches which linked the delicate pink cherry blossoms. Delicate but so resilient that they bloomed year after year despite the hard winters and the storms. Just like her, no matter what life threw at her, she weathered it all.

He sighed again, downing the last of his beer as his phone skittered across the countertop, vibrating thickly. "Thornwood," he answered having swapped the empty bottle for his phone. "I'm on my way, Sir," he straightened, orders from his police captain pushing the bracelet from his mind though he tucked it in his breast pocket before leaving his apartment.

* * *

Hale stared across the short distance of their desks at his partner. The partner that he had just recently been reunited with after a lot of chaos and Fae-ness, "What's with you man?"

"What do you mean," Dyson arched a brow at his friend.

The siren shrugged, kicking back and letting his feet land on his desk. "You just seem different lately."

"Have you been seeing that therapist again," Dyson chuckled.

"No," Hale sighed. "You just haven't been your usual self, you're a lot more moody, and in Kenzi's words, not mine 'a sulky-wolf-man'."

"Is that so," Dyson barely suppressed the smirking laughter, "Well maybe I need to pay Kenzi a little visit and show her that I am not 'a sulky-wolf-man'."

"Right," Hale chuckled, "Cause Lil' Momma is really going to believe that with that perpetually five o'clock shadow and stale beer cologne."

"Women like a little scruff, it tells them they're dating a man, not a baby-faced teen," Dyson chuckled, tossing a wadded up report at the younger man.

Hale ducked, a frown crossing his face, "Only you aren't dating Lil' Momma, and she can read B.S. at 50 paces."

Dyson sighed deeply, feeling the light pressure of the bracelet that was pressed between his chest and leather vest.

"See," Hale pointed out, "that's it, right there: the heavy sighs and the vacant stares."

"Stop reading the self-help magazines," Dyson smirked burying the feelings he was having more and more trouble controlling.

"Hey," Hale stood up and walked over to his partner's desk, "I'm just concerned for you. It is my gorgeous ass you're supposed to be watching, not hers."

"It's not," Dyson stopped, not sure how to go on.

"Yeah it is," Hale corrected, "to everyone else you might be hiding it well, but I know you man, I see the way you look at her. The way you always have. There's a reason that after three years, I haven't made a move." Dyson sighed again, Hale's hand clapping him on the shoulder. "I may have bowed out, man, but not everyone is me, and Kenzi, she's pretty oblivious."

As Hale walked away to flirt with the new receptionist, Dyson pushed himself out of his desk chair. What was the harm in just giving her the bracelet, Kenzi wouldn't think anything of it. To her it would just be something shiny to dress up with, hell, she never thought anything of her bar tab mysteriously being paid at the end of each month.

Decided, courage strong, Dyson strode from the station headed to the one place Kenzi would be at noon on a Sunday.

* * *

Shortly, Dyson pushed the diner door open, ignoring the tinkling of bells above his head and focused on the dark haired, tiny, woman curled into a corner booth. With silent steps, he moved to her table, standing before her for a moment before letting his smile turn to a slight smirk, "Want some company?"

Kenzi started, her book slipping out her hands and landing with a thump on the seat beside her. "D-man! Seriously, make some noise, little-human Kenzi doesn't want to have a heart attack this year."

Dyson chuckled, ruffling his hair quickly as he slid in across from her, "Sorry."

She rolled those icy blue eyes that had a tendency to shift to pale green when he least expected it. "So what's the haps, Dyson," she drew out his name, a smile softening the eye roll.

He leaned forward, matching her pose, arms on table smile full force, "Nothing, just wondering how my favorite human was this fine Sunday."

"Mhm," Kenzi purred, "and I'm sure Johnny Law came knocking just to check that Little Red wasn't holding the wolf hostage."

"Maybe Johnny Law wanted to join in on the fun," Dyson arched a brow, eyes flashing lightly.

"Right," Kenzi rolled her eyes again, "so what are you really doing here?"

Dyson sat back, "I was hungry, you being here is just an added bonus. So, can I join you for lunch?"

The petite woman shifted, her hair gliding over her bare neck and shoulders, "It's a free world."

"I'm buying," Dyson teased.

Kenzi straightened, her smirk sliding into a polite, sweet smile, "I suppose we haven't had a chance to chat in a while." Their eyes met, and neither could prevent the laughter that spilled forth.

Dyson flagged down a waitress, "Two cups of tea and two burgers with fries, medium rare."

The woman bit her lip and cocked her hip, smiling flirtatiously at Dyson. He smiled politely back, trapping Kenzi's booted foot as it was about to connect with his shin. He pretended her 'subtle' hint about the woman's attraction hadn't happened. A few more polite words and they were alone again. "Are you going to try to kick me again if I let go?"

Kenzi pouted like a child, "Maybe."

"Then 'maybe' I won't let go," Dyson smirked, tracing her delicate ankle with strong fingers.

"Fine," Kenzi nearly growled, jerking her foot out of his firm, but gentle grip. "So no Hale?"

"Hale was too busy chatting up the new receptionist," Dyson told her. "Bo?"

"She and Tam-tam are hanging," Kenzi admitted, a little down, "I didn't want to join in on the orgy so I decided to have some Kenzi-solo time."

"Orgy," Dyson asked, only half surprised.

"Okay maybe less naked-fun-times and more drunken strangers who can't dance," Kenzi shrugged, setting her book on the table so she wouldn't forget it.

"Ah," Dyson nodded, stretching his long legs out, one foot slipping between Kenzi's feet. Silence swelled around them, the only noise was the soft breaths that slipped between lips that held the half-formed thoughts they didn't dare form into words.

Their tea came, and they went through the ritual of adding sugar and cream, of stirring and tapping, and finally sipping and sighing. Dyson set his teacup down and his eyes caught once more on the book Kenzi had been reading when he first surprised her. It was a slim forest green book with gold outlined diamonds pressed gently into the leather cover. Lithe fingers slipped through the air and snatched up the book before Kenzi could object, which she did, with her heel on his toes.

Dyson could only smile as Kenzi leaned across the table, her top slipping lower as she strained to reach her book. He held it just out of her reach, curiosity getting the best of him. There was no title printed on the spine, so Dyson flicked the slightly worn cover open to read the title page. He let out a breath at the title, _Heart of Darkness. _ A somber tale to be sure, the story of a slow descent into immorality—into freedom and the synonymous loss of everything.

To be short, it wasn't a novel that Dyson imagined Kenzi, sweet Kenzi, reading. "What made you choose this?"

She flipped her outstretched hand, palm up, waiting for him to return the book. When he didn't, she withdrew the hand, "It was a present, it was my great-grandfather's. He gave it to me to protect when he was on his death bed, I was only eight."

Dyson frowned, glancing at the Russian script on the inside cover, "Why this book, Kenzi?"

She took a sip of her tea, "Because it is a reminder of what he taught me, he fought in three wars out of duty and honor, and by the end he was more human than anyone I've ever met. He came across this book, in England when he was a youth, and for two days after reading it he drank himself into the gutter. Then he got up and became a better man. He used to sit me on his lap and read to me, and tell me stories of what happened when men lost their way and their ties, and he made me promise to not to lose what made me, _me_."

Dyson reverently placed the book before Kenzi. Her strength in the face of adversity, her courage in the face of danger, her utter unbending nature when it came to what made her, _her_. Those were the things he admired so much, loved so much.

There was very little Dyson could say in response to all she had said, so he settled for the truth, "He sounds like a great man, I wish I could have met him, Kenz."

"He was," she smiled down at her tea. "He nicknamed me Kenzi, you know."

"Did he," the wolf sat up.

Kenzi nodded, "Thought MacKenzie was too anglicized for a proper Russian girl. So he nicknamed me after his best friend Kenya, eventually it became Kenzi when my grandmother refused to call me a boy's name."

The snicker of laughter that Dyson let out was followed by a very serious look, "Well I happen to know you make a very handsome man."

Kenzi's eyes narrowed, "Ego much, D-man?"

"Well, it's not often I get to watch myself walk away," he argued.

"Uh-huh," Kenzi scoffed, "I'm still not convinced you didn't do something sketchy with my body when you took it for a walk."

It was Dyson's turn to scoff, "Which of us is the policeman and which of us is the delinquent?"

Kenzi waved it off, hand falling to rest at her hip in a show of defiance, "Yeah, because no cop was ever dirty-minded."

Dyson huffed, "I'll have you know I was the perfect lady during our little body-swap incident, even if I did accidentally learn one or two things about what gets Little Kenzi going."

"Hey," the human yelped, arms crossing protectively over her torso as the wolf's eyes traced every curve and line, a hunter's glint ever-present.

Dyson laughed and leaned back, "Oh," he sat forward, his right hand sliding underneath his vest to produce the bracelet which he dangled on his index finger in front of her. "I almost forgot."

Kenzi's eyes narrowed in confusion, the blue edging more towards green with each moment. "What?"

"I got you something," Dyson smiled.

"It's not my birthday," Kenzi replied, confusion clouding her bright face.

Dyson reached across the table and drew her left wrist to him. "I know," he told her as he deftly, slowly, draped the bracelet around her tiny wrist and secured it. "One of the women at work brought a mess of jewelry in, her daughter makes them by hand. Nearly everyone bought something, and I thought you might like this."

Kenzi stared mystified at the delicate bracelet, the lights in the dinner flashing and catching on the bright metal. "It's gorgeous!"

Dyson watched, pride swelling as she smiled softly and rotated her wrist so she could see every bit of the bracelet. "I'm glad you like it."

"Like it," Kenzi looked at him, eyes full of warmth, all traces of her snarky attitude missing, "Dyson, I love it! Thank you."

He recaptured her wrist, turning it slightly so he could admire the piece with her. In truth, he was just enjoying the feel of her tiny hand engulfed in his. This tiny little human woman who inspired him to be a better man every day was positively oblivious to the affect she had on him.

* * *

"_I am just one human being."__  
__-Dalai Lama_


	2. Nail Polish

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_02 December, 2013_

Monday found Kenzi blearily making coffee at an hour that was too ungodly to mention. Bo had rolled in at four and collapsed in her room. Kenzi had been roused by the staggering footsteps and the drunken giggling. Kenzi had been much the same early that morning, but she had managed to stagger in at an earlier hour, no prospective fun-time partners in her horizon. After relocking the door after Bo left it swinging open, Kenzi settled her bestie in bed with a glass of water, an aspirin, and a loving hug.

So there was Kenzi, leaning against the counter while she brewed a cup of coffee and flipped through the magazine she had abandoned yesterday in favor for Conrad and lunch. One of the perks and pitfalls of having a non-traditional job was the excessive free time. Most people spent Monday morning preparing to do something. Kenzi was desperate to _find_ something to do. She had, for once, kept the kitchen and her bedroom clean, the laundry was done and folded, and Kenzi had nothing to do. She was half tempted to make a mess just so she could have something to clean, or go pick pocket a few dozen marks in the park. But no, Kenzi was going to behave. She was going to do something productive, or at least something that got her out of the house. After coffee though. Coffee was a necessary thing for her continued existence at the moment.

When she had a cup of very strong black coffee in her hands, Kenzi spent the next half hour wallowing in the scent and the taste. Eyes slowly opened more than a crack, the taste of tequila finally disappeared, and a smile found its way onto her face as her mug clicked gently against new bracelet.

The silence of the predawn December morning was broken only by the incoherent, unconscious, babbling of Bo as she fought off or sexed up some hapless dream foe. Kenzi couldn't help the gentle smile at the thought of the succubus.

Monday started for Kenzi in the predawn chill that found her carrying her coffee cup down the road, her mouth half full of toast & Nutella. She was used to walking, walking was a pastime that Kenzi had never left behind. She was what her grandmother had called 'dikaya devochka' a feral girl. She had outstripped her cousins as a little girl in Russia, running wild through the landscape. When she had struck out on her own in Canada things hadn't changed, Kenzi had been essentially homeless, she was a survivor. A little walking wouldn't kill her, especially after all the faeshit she'd been through lately.

* * *

Kenzi watched the sunrise from the local park, she lay on a park bench and watched the sun rise and its trek across the sky. She didn't mind the chill, Russian winters were much colder than this early December weather. The first snow hadn't even fallen yet, sure there had been flurries, but it hadn't stuck.

A humming deep in her pocket shook Kenzi out of her glazed state. _1 new message_. Kenzi flicked the text open and rolled her eyes at Hale.

_Lil' Momma,_ _brunch at 10 at The Dal_

Kenzi swiped her thumb across the screen to call the man, it took a moment, but when Hale did answer, it was with a whispered voice, "Well, well, well, is that a voice of shame."

Kenzi could practically see Hale do his panicked full body 'shush'. "No," he whispered.

"Oh really, so why are you whispering," Kenzi whispered.

"I'm…at church," Hale managed to utter.

Kenzi bit her lip, "And you thought now would be a good time to answer the phone, in a church."

"I had a free moment," Hale stuttered.

"Oh yeah, I know that church is just chock full of free time that people are encouraged to talk on their phones," Kenzi drawled. "So how was the receptionist, did you sing her into su-,"

"Okay," Hale cut her off, his voice rising several octaves. "So," he cleared his throat, "are you coming for brunch?"

"I have some time," Kenzi shrugged. "Do you need an out?"

"Oh god yes," Hale exhaled heavily. "She keeps trying to cuddle me!"

"One wakeup call coming up, you like Brits, right," Kenzi asked before hanging up.

Flipping through her phone, Kenzi dialed Hale's house phone. Let it never be said that Kenzi wasn't a great wing-woman and a great beard. Swinging herself upright, Kenzi shook herself and settled into one of her many personas.

When Hale's message finished, Kenzi took a few short deep breaths and blinked back imaginary tears, "Baby, it's me. I know I shouldn't have walked out of the flat the other morning. I just, I got scared, Darling. Visiting home for Christmas is a big deal, especially to my parents. But if it is really what you want then let's do it. I'll be home soon, sweetheart."

With a smirk, Kenzi tapped the 'end' button and kicked off the bench. Life was good.

* * *

At fifteen minutes after ten, Kenzi sauntered into The Dal. Happily it was Hale and Dyson's day off so they were already sat at the bar, Tamsin and Bo were face down at the bar ignoring Trick's lecture.

At her entrance Trick turned and sighed, tossing his bar rag down, "There you are, I was about to set the cavalry on your scent."

Kenzi shrugged and unbuttoned her peacoat, "Sorry, I got a little tied up."

Bo groaned and lifted her head, "You were gone when I woke up, Kenz."

"Sorry Bo-Bo," Kenzi walked over and lightly hugged the older woman. "Went for a walk."

Hale raised an eyebrow, "Went for a walk? What did you get up to Lil' Momma?"

Kenzi threw her shoulders back and batted her eyelashes as she stepped towards the siren, "Well first I watched the sunrise with Marco, then I played with John and George, and lastly I cuddled with this sweetheart named Maxine." She sniffed and tilted her head to the side.

"Whoa," Hale gulped.

Kenzi relaxed her posture and shoved Hale lightly, "Get a grip. Like that really happened."

"So what did you do," Dyson asked, his hand relaxing from the coffee mug he had just broken the handle off of.

Kenzi shrugged, "I watched the sunrise with Marco, a stray cat, whupped John and George at chess, and then I stopped at a pet store where a super gorge guy works and cuddled a puppy named Maxine."

Dyson swallowed tightly, "Sounds, nice."

"It was," Kenzi nodded, "so what are we drinking?"

Tam-Tam and Bo-Bo groaned, one of the pair burping. Hale chuckled, "Irish coffee."

"Yum," the tiny Russian grinned, extracting her nearly forgotten coffee mug from her coat pocket and thunking it down on the bar-top, "Fill 'er up Trickster."

Shimming out of her coat as Trick took the mug with a shake of his head, Kenzi hopped up onto the barstool. "So Hale," she smirked at the man, "how was the rest of your morning at 'church'?"

"It was good," he grinned, "half-way through that little message and I was blissfully alone!"

Dyson shook his head playfully, "Kenz, you need to stop enabling him. It isn't healthy, for either of you." He set his hands on either of her shoulders and twisted her on the barstool to face him, squeezing gently. "Please, promise me you'll stop."

Kenzi inhaled deeply and nodded shakily, "For you," she warbled as she collapsed into his chest.

Dyson wrapped her tight, throwing Hale a dirty look in jest. "Look what you've done to her, this sweet woman, look how you've hurt her."

"Oh my god," Tamsin whined rather loudly, "would you three just jump off a cliff so a girl could get some sleep!"

"Ditto," Bo groaned.

Kenzi laughed against Dyson's chest, slowly pushing away. Reluctantly he let her go, though one arm stayed wrapped around her, resting gently on her hip as he took his own chair.

As trick set her newly filled mug before her, Kenzi smiled, "So Trick-man what's up?"

"Nothing," responded. "I simply thought it would be nice for us all to sit down and have a meal together."

"I agree," Kenzi smiled. "We never all hang out anymore. These two schmucks are always working and Burpy and Sleepy over there are on a flip schedule lately."

"Yes," Trick agreed with a deep frown as he glanced at his granddaughter.

* * *

After a meal of fruit, finger sandwiches, and absolutely adorable tarts that Kenzi had fallen in love with, Kenzi, Dyson, and Hale were sitting around a low coffee table. They had left the two hung-over fae slumped at the bar, pieces of toast half eaten.

Kenzi sat on the couch next to Dyson, leaning heavily on the man. Who could blame her he was hotter than blacktop during a heat wave. She glanced across the table at Hale, his trademark fedora spinning on a finger. "So what are two _fine_ lawmen like yourselves doing this fine Monday afternoon," Kenzi put on a southern drawl, shaking her dark head gently for emphasis.

Dyson's rumble of a laugh seeped into her back and made her press a little further into the man.

Hale frowned, "I have to go visit my father. Apparently my sister went off and nearly married a stranger, so we're having a family meeting."

Dyson laughed, "And see I always thought that would be your situation."

"Shut up," Hale slunk a little lower in his armchair.

"What about you D-man? Run in the woods, commune with nature," Kenzi teased with a flirty smirk.

"Not quite," he patted her arm gently.

"Well," Kenzi sighed deeply, tugging lightly at the tank top that had ridden up her belly just a little too far, "I am going grocery shopping. I realized that reason the kitchen is so clean is because we don't have any food in the clubhouse."

"That would do it," Dyson chuckled. "Well you're in luck, I'll drive if you'll fend off the supermarket hussies while I shop?"

Kenzi laughed, "Didn't you just tell me to stop enabling Hale by being his beard?"

"Yes," Dyson agreed, "But I'm asking you to protect me from being taken advantage of."

"Yeah," Hale scoffed, flipping his fedora onto his head, "because that would happen."

Dyson glared at Hale who mouthed the word 'whipped' at Dyson and did the little hand gesture to go with it. Dyson, being the mature wolf of substantial years flipped him off in response before pulling Kenzi smoothly to her feet and escorting her out of The Dal.

* * *

"You know, I've always wanted to do this," Kenzi giggled as she stood on the cart, leaning back into Dyson.

He turned his head slightly to smile at her, his head resting on her shoulder and hers on his. "Not even as a child," he asked.

"Nope," she denied, "not even as a juvenile delinquent."

Dyson grinned and kept pushing the cart, Kenzi reclining comfortably against his strong chest and cradled between his arms. "So, where to first?"

"Cereal," Kenzi demanded. "Momma needs her some Honey Berry Crunch."

"Yes Ma'am," Dyson called and saluted with one hand. He was rewarded with Kenzi's laughter. The light sweet sound that reminded him of simpler times, but that was Kenzi, a simple human woman.

Monday found Kenzi and Dyson rushing around the grocery store. Kenzi squealing at every sharp corner and quick stop that Dyson exaggerated. Kenzi was laughing so hard by the time they were almost done that she could barely stay upright and one of Dyson's arms was locked around her waist keeping her locked to him.

"Oh wait," Kenzi choked out. "I need shampoo!"

"Okay," Dyson spun them around, maneuvering them into the proper aisle.

Kenzi hopped off the cart and slipped out of Dyson's grip, bending down and skimming the shelf for her favorite vanilla and cocoa butter scented shampoo. Humming happily when she tipped it into the cart, she ran her chipped nails across the rows of nail polish. She shouldn't, she wouldn't. She had, like, five tons of half used bottles shoved in a box in her closet. It didn't matter that the new metallic polish looked absolutely delish.

A hand plucked the bottle she had been lingering on from the shelf and set it in the cart. "Dyson," she sighed, reaching to grab it only to have her hand blocked. "I'm behaving, I don't need it, and you're tempting me!"

Dyson stepped closer, "Ooh, temptation. Copper metallic nail polish, it'll look so good on you."

"No," Kenzi, groaned. She tossed her head back and stomped her booted foot on the floor, the picture of frustration.

Dyson dragged her into him and said the magic words, "My treat."

"Mm," she whimpered. "That sounds so dirty and so good!"

Dyson chuckled lowly, "happy to oblige, M'Lady."

Kenzi leaned up and wrapped her arms around Dyson's neck, inhaling the woodsy scent that was all wolf-man, "You are the best!"

* * *

_"Friendship is a single soul dwelling in two bodies."_  
_-Aristotle_

* * *

A/N: Thank you to those who have reviewed. For those of you who don't know me, or my Holiday fics, here's the rundown: I write and post 1 chapter a day until Christmas. That doesn't mean you shouldn't review, I write this for you all as a gift, so return the love. I do have a job that doesn't always stick to nice hours, so hopefully I'll manage to stay on time. Love to you all, see you tomorrow!


	3. A Sweater

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_03 December, 2013_

"Move your fae-ass," Kenzi shivered roughly.

Hale sighed, "We didn't tell you to stalk us to a meat packing plant, Kenzi."

"And yet," Kenzi smirked, "You didn't tell me _not_ to."

It was Dyson's turn to roll his eyes as he scanned the refrigerated room, flashlight glancing off meat hooks and more than one cleaver. "Go wait in the car, Kenzi."

"Nu-uh, no way, no how," she scoffed. "I know what happens when girls like me go off on their own during a horror movie."

"'Girls like you'," Dyson asked.

Kenzi nodded, shifting from foot to foot, "Sexy Lil' Momma's."

"Who wield a katana," Dyson asked for confirmation.

"It could happen," Kenzi argued weakly. "I'm sorta the weak link in this trio."

Dyson chuckled lowly, "I wouldn't call you the weak link, Kenz."

"Suck up," Hale grumbled just softly enough that only the wolf would hear. "So what actually inspired you to tail us here?"

Kenzi shrugged, "I really love steak. And things that moo."

"So you're just in this for the meat," Dyson questioned, highly doubting her motivations.

"Oh yeah," Kenzi purred, "this girl loves her some beefcake."

The tiny ebony haired woman took full advantage of her vantage point. Both detectives were fit, but Kenzi had to hand to the wolf-man, he filled out a pair of jeans like nobody's business. "Bad Kenzi," she muttered under her breath before refocusing on the large room around her.

And then she felt something squelch under her heel, "Eww," she shuddered in a reflexive disgust.

"What," Dyson spun around, flashlight flicking back and forth. "What's wrong?"

Kenzi was frozen, eyes cast upward, terrified at what might be touching her shoes: the super-cute, super-comfy, sexy as hell over the knee lace-up boots. "Something squicked," the young woman whimpered.

Dyson's eyes swept downward, and there, beneath Kenzi's right heel was a partially liquefied rat. Not that he was about to tell the muttering, whimpering badass. Instead he stepped forward, "Kenzi, it's just a rag."

"You're lying to me, right," eyes flickering down to meet his.

Dyson remained stoic, "Kenz, it is just a rag."

"Yeah," she wavered, taking a step forward, and resisting the urge to look back and down. "Distract me please. What big bad baddie are we tracking?"

Dyson grinned, "Norton, he's a very big bad, slimy, informant of Hale's."

"Literally slimy, like fae-slimy, or just a creep," Kenzi asked, almost hoping for the former rather than the latter. At least it would be a story that she could never tell anyone ever.

Hale huffed, "He's not slimy. He's just a little skeevy."

"You met him in the back of a video store," Dyson recounted for Kenzi's benefit more than anything.

"Ooh la la," Kenzi smirked, "Detective Hale, you dirty, dirty boy." Dyson bit his cheek to prevent his laughter from ticking off his partner who may or may not have had a tendency to knock out people who irritated him.

"Ha-ha," Hale enunciated, utterly lacking any humor the statement usually carried. "I had a case."

"A case of the Friskies," Kenz moved in step with Dyson, sticking close to his side.

The snort of laughter couldn't be squelched, Kenzi turned, eyes widening comically at Dyson's uncharacteristic outburst. She wasn't aware he could make that noise. Although, Kenzi figured that there were a lot of noises that she wasn't aware that Dyson could make. Okay, so the Clubhouse had really thin walls that were mostly holes, and she had heard a _lot_ of noises coming from Bo-Bo's bed, and maybe once or twice the sexy little growl had slithered into one or five daydreams, but Kenzi didn't know Dyson's daytime non-sexy fun-times noises. And oddly enough, that little snort was kinda, sorta, really sexy.

Kenzi winced internally. She was having a serious case of the spaces. It wasn't the first time this December that Kenzi had found herself less than focused. Hell, Kenzi had nearly taken a chunk off of her fichus this morning during her morning routine. And there was a euphemism for the crowd. And there was the space-case case-in-point. And the nail in the coffin was when Kenzi found her face planted in the middle of Dyson's shoulder blades. Yeah, she really needed to learn to focus.

Leaning around the detective in question, Kenzi spotted the informant in question. And contrary to popular belief that humans weren't literally slimy, this guy was sort of…well, dripping. And it was definitely not a sexy man sweat, I just built something dripping. This was more mucus and pink gunk.

"Ew," Kenzi groaned, pressing her nose against Dyson's arm, trying to proverbially drown out the scent of miscellanea gunk with the musky scent of rough & tumble man.

Dyson cleared his throat, "That is pretty ripe."

"Ripe," Kenzi wrinkled her nose, "Ripe was like five days ago when the snot was fresh."

"Jason," Hale called. "You didn't answer my call."

'Jason' backed up a few steps, not far enough though in Kenzi's mind.

"He's going to run," Dyson told Hale.

Hale shook his head, "He's not going to run."

"Yes he is," Dyson tipped his head at the guy who was backing away slowly.

Hale groaned as Jason tripped backwards over his feet before managing to run further into the building. "I know that rat is _not_ making me run in my new Prada's," Hale dashed after him.

Kenzi frowned when Dyson didn't move. "Aren't we following?"

"Nah," Dyson declined. "If we help him now, he won't learn his lesson."

"So," Kenzi stalled, "here we are, all alone with a bunch of cow corpses."

"Romantic, isn't it," Dyson wiggled his eyebrows, Kenzi only barely catching the motion in the dim lighting.

She shoved the man lightly, her fingers flexing against his firm bicep, "Maybe for you Wolf-man, but I'm not much on raw meat before the third date."

"That may cramp my style a little," Dyson intoned seriously.

Kenzi's tongue curled behind her teeth, a million retorts waiting to fall, "Yeah, uh-uh, I totes believe you have style."

Dyson spun on the girl, advancing slowly, steadily towards her. "Kenzi," he whispered, breath skimming her ear and neck. "I have so much style that if I actually unleashed even half of it, you would be on your knees begging me for more."

"Oh," Kenzi's sharp inhalation might have been from the sudden chill that crept up her back, or it might have been from the sudden tightening of her abdomen and the fire that raced through her lungs. Swallowing and shaking the fuzzies from her brain, Kenzi cocked her head to the side, "You wish."

With that she spun on her heel and stalked back the way they had come. Carefully skirting the dark shadow on the ground that she was almost positive was _not_ a rag.

Dyson tilted his head to the side like the proverbial canine he was and watched, without shame, Kenzi walk away. "I really do wish," Dyson grumbled as his jeans became just a tad uncomfortable. This had the makings of a very, _very_ long evening.

"Wait up," Dyson called.

* * *

"I am going to kill you," Kenzi growled at Hale. "I am going to take Gerladine and slice you from Prada to fedora and then feed you to Dyson."

Hale coughed and took a step back from the curiously soaked Kenzi. Her hair was plastered to her head, her shirt, jeans, and boots coated in a shiny egg-like coat. "Let's not be hasty," the siren begged, glancing at Dyson for a little support.

Dyson held his hands up, the universal sign that he was staying out of it, and that Hale was a dead fae walking.

"Then," Kenzi continued. "I'm going to take your precious collection of suits, and hats, and ties and dress up a Brownie. And then I'm going to show him a very, very dirty crime scene and ask him to clean it up. And when everything is utterly dirty, I'm not going to dry clean anything, I'm going to burn it."

"Holy mother of all that is unholy," Hale paled, "you are an evil little woman."

"You haven't seen evil yet," Kenzi advanced on Hale. It was his fault after all. She and Dyson had been perfectly fine snarking back and forth until Hale chased 'Jason' right into Kenzi. Bowling the formerly dry and even tempered woman over and thoroughly coating her with a substance none of them had yet identified.

"Okay," Dyson stepped between the pair. He was a cop after all, and he should probably prevent a murder that would put Kenzi behind bars. "Hale, you are going to take your informant back to the station and deal with him. I am going to take Kenzi home and get her clean."

Kenzi leaned back with a huff, moving to cross her arms only to rethink it when the unpleasant moistness slid across her skin. "Fine," she growled darkly, "but you better run fast before I change my mind." Hale stepped even farther away, quickly melting into the early evening darkness, dragging the stumbling informant with him.

Turning to Dyson, Kenzi arched a brow, silently asking him what his plan was. He slowly walked to the back of his car and dug a heavy blanket out of the trunk. With the ease and strength of a shifter he tossed it around her, settling it evenly about her shoulders. With a flourish, he opened the passenger door and gave a little bow, "M'lady."

Kenzi's lip twitched into a sneer not unlike Billy Idol's. "I'm going to kill him."

"Of course," Dyson agreed easily closing the door gently as Kenzi settled into the seat.

"This is disgusting," Kenzi whined. "What the hell is this?"

Dyson started the car and pulled out of the warehouse district, "Nothing a little soap and a lot of hot water can't fix."

"It better."

* * *

"This isn't the clubhouse," Kenzi noted.

"No," Dyson said slowly, "it's not."

Kenzi was tired, she was gross, and she was running out of patience, "Why are we in your parking garage?"

"I thought you might like a hot shower," Dyson told her.

"My place has hot water."

Dyson nodded, "I'm well aware that what you consider hot water is created by lighting a butane torch and applying it to the water tank."

"Hey," Kenzi snapped, shoving her finger in Dyson's face, "it works."

Dyson smiled sweetly and started his engine, "If you really want to go to the Clubhouse I'll take you there."

"No," Kenzi sulked, and let Dyson help her out of the car and into the lift. "I can't believe this. Here I was, innocently minding my own business and I get slimed."

Dyson wisely chose to ignore the fact that Kenzi was 'forgetting' the fact that she had tailed them to the meat packing plant. Safely inside his apartment, Dyson guided Kenzi to the bathroom and turned the shower on, cranking the heat up to just below scalding. Reluctantly he turned around and let Kenzi strip down and jump in the shower, only turning around when he heard the door click shut. Frosted glass was officially something he hated. Dyson's mouth was dry, his tongue rasping across his lips as he watched Kenzi's curvy silhouette turn beneath the shower.

"I'm using your soap," Kenzi called. "Ooh, cinnamon and sandalwood."

That was Dyson's cue to escape before he lost control.

* * *

Quietly, Kenzi padded out of the bathroom, towel wrapped firmly around her tiny torso. Dyson was reclining on the couch, a beer in hand and a second on the coffee table in front of him. At the soft tap of her bare feet across the concrete floor Dyson spun, smiling softly at how different Kenzi looked. It wasn't often she was stripped down to just the skin she was in. She looked very vulnerable, soft. Rising, Dyson picked up a double breasted button-up sweater from the back of the couch.

Handing it to Kenzi he winked before brushing a wet strand of hair behind her ear, "I thought you might like something dry to wear."

Kenzi nodded and, with all the skill of a former dancer, she slid the warm, dark gray sweater around her shoulders and did up the buttons before dropping the towel. Kenzi's petite stature was a blessing in this case, while the low cut revealed a good deal of bare skin and a good hint of cleavage, the bottom of the sweater fell to her mid thigh.

"This is super comfy," Kenzi grinned, wrapping her fingers up in the sleeves.

Dyson shrugged, reigning in his control and the waver in his voice, "You can keep it, I hardly wear it, and I know a fae cleaner who can clean your clothes on Hale's dime."

Kenzi grinned and walked over to the couch, happily cuddling up, legs tucked beneath her, "Thanks D-man."

He only smiled, handed her the extra beer and tried not to think about how her skin glistened, how it smelled like him, how her bare skin was gliding across one of his favorite sweaters, her scent no doubt absorbing into the fibers.

* * *

"_Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth."_

_-Buddha_

* * *

A/N: 3/25. Thank you again for the lovely reviews. I'm starting in on crunch time. I have a lot of papers to grade and I coach scholastic bowl, so this should be an interesting week or two. Lots of love, and please review, the inspiration for this fic and the chapters comes from gifts that show subtle affection, it was a bit of trouble figuring out 25 things Dyson could get Kenzi. Let's just say you're in for 22 more days of utter fluff—and maybe the murder of Hale!


	4. A Scarf & A Pair of Mittens

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_04 December, 2013_

"Seriously," Kenzi shivered. "Can't this fae-baddy just fence the family jewels already?"

Bo laughed from the front seat, eyes flickering to the rearview mirror so she could see her best friend. Kenzi was curled into a ball, wrapped in a blanket, and rocking back and forth impatiently. "They aren't actual jewels, Kenz," Bo reminded her roomie.

"Hey, I once fenced a bag of dog-do," Kenzi argued. "I am so nearly done with this. I've been frozen since Hale's informant slimed on me. I swear if I get a cold, I am going to hack on him so badly he won't know what hit him."

Bo laughed, it was one short burst before she twisted in her seat so she could face Kenzi. "So remind me how you ended up covered in slime and Dyson returning you home in his comforter."

"Well," Kenzi muttered, "You were having Lady-time so _I_ decided that I would hunt down some crime for us to solve. I happened to run across the Detectives and then I pretty much got slimed by a skeevy informant."

"You were stalking again, weren't you," Bo quirked a fine brow, her whole face brightened with laughter.

Kenzi's lower lip jutted out roughly, "Hey, it's not stalking if they liked it."

"Kenz," Bo snorted. "You are something else."

Kenzi's pout turned to a sultry little smirk, "Why thank you very much."

"Okay," Bo sighed. "I'm bored of this."

"I told you," Kenzi reminded the older woman. "We may just freeze before we see the balls."

"Family jewels," Bo corrected.

"That's what I said," Kenzi blinked sweetly, dark lashes brushing against her pale skin. "Balls."

"Do trees even have balls," Bo wondered, her face wrinkling softly.

"No," Kenzi responded before pausing. "Well, they shouldn't right? I mean yeah it's a fae-tree, but they don't have legs…oh my god, acorns. They have big droopy acorn balls!"

Bo's face blanched, her usually stalwart gag reflex lurching at the thought. "Ew, I was standing right under one."

"We really need a better screening process for clients," Kenzi muttered darkly. She vividly recalled the very tall and very droopy trees they had been employed by. They had been a little more than vague about the job itself. Only that priceless, which usually meant a price you couldn't imagine without your brain bursting, family jewels had gone missing, and the culprit was no doubt the youngest nymph they just employed. Apparently he was a little scamp, always balls deep in some sort of trouble, doubly so this time.

Bo could only nod, "You aren't wrong. Do you remember the butt-picker?"

"Oh god," Kenzi gagged, "or the garbage picker?"

"He kept trying to pay us in questionable liquid," Bo's eyes squeezed shut, her sense memory kicking in. "Last time we advertise in the Fae-Flyer. I don't care if it's free, it's not worth the trauma."

"Agreed," Kenzi wrestled her arm free and leaned forward, extending her pinky finger. "To not skimping on advertisements…and hookers!"

"Cheers," Bo locked pinkies with Kenzi and they shook on it. "Hookers," she repeated Kenzi's word.

"Well yeah," the tiny Russian affirmed. "I was always taught that you don't skimp on two things: vodka and hookers. If you skimp on one it'll always affect the other."

"Oh, Kenz," Bo murmured. "Where do you get these things."

"My father," Kenzi offered, "and my Uncle Vlad, and my ex-boyfriend Timo."

"Did you all go to the same wacky, dysfunctional school," Bo asked a little baffled.

Kenzi nodded, her dark hair skimming across her cheeks, "Pretty much."

"So," Bo inhaled deeply, shoulders rolling back and chest popping out to say hello to the world. "What is happening on the boy front?"

Not sure how to respond, Kenzi could only shrug. "What boys?"

"Okay," Bo sighed, "Man front? I hear when your best friend beaks up with her girlfriend via abandonment there is often a rain full of men."

Kenzi rolled her eyes, "It is most definitely _not_ raining men."

"Come on," Bo sighed, "let me live vicariously through your sexcapades."

"Excuse me," Kenzi replied indignantly, "which of has had the pool boy on the kitchen table this morning, and let me remind the audience that we don't have a pool."

"I was hungry," Bo suggested weakly, a little smile creeping on the edge of her lips.

"That's what we have the pizza boy for," Kenzi gave a long suffering sigh. "And, now _I_ can't do the pool boy."

"He has a brother," Bo offered.

"No," Kenzi pouted. "I'm over it. But I swear to Our Lord Trickster, if you bang your way through the yellow pages we'll have a problem."

"Promise," Bo giggled.

Kenzi sniffed delicately, "Good, because I have dibs on 'C' through 'N'."

"What," Bo frowned.

"Construction worker to naval officer," Kenzi licked her lips, fanning herself dramatically.

"As long as you have a plan," Bo laughed. "Are you going to flip through randomly, pull from a hat, or just power through alphabetically?"

"You know, I just haven't thought that far ahead yet. I'm mostly just thinking about the walls I'm going to break in the process."

"That's more than enough of a plan," Bo told her.

"I just really, really like it when a guy can throw me over his shoulder," Kenzi admitted. "You know in a banging setting, not a kidnapping, murdering way."

"I figured," Bo nodded.

"So how have your lady-bits been since the whole shizz-fest with the Doc," Kenzi asked softly.

"A little sucky," Bo frowned.

"Pun _intended_," Kenzi wondered out loud.

Bo shrugged, "It fits. I've been starving lately, hence the pool-boy, and the bouncer, and maybe just maybe the TSA guy."

Kenzi frowned, "Okay, clearly you and Tamsin should not be going out without supervision."

"That girl is one crazy valkyrie," Bo admitted with a little awe.

Kenzi nodded, "I think last weekend you two banged your way through half of the town, Guinness World Records called."

"Oh shut your pie hole," Bo tossed a balled up piece of paper into the backseat.

"Excuse _you_, I am very selective in what I put in my mouth!"

"Do go on," a warm male voice ran down Kenzi's spine, she spun to face the half-open window behind her only to find Dyson.

"Dude," Kenzi smiled, anger seeping out, "Stake-out, subtle, take a hint."

Bo unlocked the doors and Dyson easily slid in beside Kenzi and behind Bo. "I come bearing coffee."

"Ooh," Bo reached into the backseat, "gimme!"

Dyson quickly handed the to-go cup over, "Nice to see you upright, Bo."

"Nice to see you upright too, I thought you would never stop walking on the walls," Bo tossed back as she sipped the coffee.

Kenzi tucked into her own cup of coffee, smiling as she tasted the hint of hazelnut. "So what brings you out to our neck of the woods? Good deeds made of coffee?"

Dyson nodded, "And we got a call about a suspicious car loitering outside a pawn shop."

"You caught us," Bo sighed mockingly, "we _are_ planning on robbing the place."

"Of course you are," Dyson agreed. "So why is Kenzi wrapped up like the mummy part two?"

"She," Kenzi growled, her coffee buzz quickly evaporating, "still has the chills from Slimy McSlimster from Slimetown. And we're stuck out here until some nymph gets is rocks off."

Dyson ran one hand over his face and jaw, "I only caught half of that."

Bo shifted and turned to face her former-lover, "We've been out here for 3 hours waiting for this nymph to sell some stolen family fae-jewels."

"Balls," Kenzi interjected roughly. "And I think I may lose my toes."

Dyson frowned, reaching out to feel Kenzi's skin, fingers brushing against her forehead, her temple and the pulse in her neck. "You were fine last night."

"Yeah, well, the slime incubated and here we are," Kenzi grumbled deeply.

Dyson frowned, "Is that the nymph you're looking for?" He pointed out the window, past Kenzi to a rather short man who was wearing what Kenzi really hoped weren't tights and a sparkly shirt.

"Oh yeah," Bo nodded, already half out of the car and pulling her shirt down. "Stay here, Kenz, I need a little snack."

"Okay, cool," Kenzi wriggled back in her seat.

Dyson shook his head and gave Kenzi a half hug, "Come by the Dal when you finish here, I'll have a remedy for your chills."

"Promise," Kenzi whimpered weakly.

"Pinky," Dyson offered with a wink.

* * *

Kenzi stomped into the Dal, she could not believe her life. Okay, life was actually really good. She had good friends and family, fine booze and two dollar wine. And then there was the, "Petrified wood!"

"What," Trick asked as he exited the back room. Dyson followed him out, a steaming tankard in his hand.

"Petrified wood, chunks of petrified wood, little chunks were the family jewels," Kenzi ground out. "I cannot believe the ridiculousness of this. Diamonds, opals, pearls, emeralds, sapphires, hell, even cubic zirconium would be an upgrade on the jewel scale."

Trick frowned, "Wait a moment, did the Oaks contact you?"

"Yes indeed," Bo agreed.

Trick laughed heartily, setting two beers down on the counter for the girls. "They have the brains of a fly, someone is always stealing their stash of petrified wood."

"No," Kenzi glared.

"Afraid so," Trick chuckled. "Every few years someone manages to find the stash and they nearly pick up roots and march across the city in anger."

"Petrified wood," Kenzi reiterated. "I nearly killed a tree once, I'll do it again."

"Okay, Kenzi," Dyson beckoned her with a crook of his finger. "Let's set the homicidal urges aside and drink this," he held up the dark tankard which was still smoking ominously.

"I don't take drinks from strangers," Kenzi backed up.

"Stranger," Dyson stepped forward.

"Or drink things that I don't know what's in it," Kenzi continued.

Dyson reached out and snagged a finger around one of her belt loops, drawing her closer. "Kenzi, may I remind you of last Thursday night when you downed six shots of various color, density and smell, none of which had a clear ingredient list."

"Things that smoke," she pleaded.

Dyson pressed the tankard to her lips. "Drink and I'll give you a pair of mittens and a scarf," he cajoled.

"You suck," Kenzi stared up at him but took a little sip of the warm liquid. It wasn't gag-worthy, in fact, it was sort of good. It was spicy, like spiced tea with the bite of whiskey. She frowned as she took another sip, mint, cinnamon, chamomile, and maybe some lemon. Okay it was really kind of good.

Bo sat at the bar, half done with her first beer watching Kenzi and Dyson. Something was a little odd, maybe it was the forwardness that she had never seen Dyson exhibit. Maybe it was the woodsy green scarf that he was draping around Kenzi's neck, or the smile that was stretching across his scruffy face. Maybe it was the lingering fingers, or _maybe_ it was the beer and two long drags of the whiskey Trick had neglected on the counter.

Settling back and finishing her beer and starting on Kenzi's, Bo stretched lightly. Life was starting to look up. She had friends, family, and a kick-ass job, so she didn't have the wifey or the long-term boy toy that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Bo was definitely enjoying the freedom, she didn't have to lie about not being tired of mac'n'cheese when all she really wanted was a big fat egg-pepper sandwich.

"Fuzzy," Kenzi hiccupped as she rubbed the fuzzy mittens onto her cheeks. "Thanks D-man," the human grinned, "I feel better already…but Hale is still very much on the hook, the meat hook."

Dyson raised his hands and nodded, "Happy to help."

"So why _does_ the hot-blooded wolf have a scarf and a pair mittens so handy?" Her chills beginning to abate and her temper cooling, Kenzi settled in at the bar beside Kenzi and just down from Bo-Bo.

Dyson smiled into his own drink, what was wrong with a little mystery after all.

* * *

"_Last night I stayed up late playing poker with Tarot cards. I got a full house and four people died."__  
__-Steven Wright_

* * *

A/N: 4/25 done. Thus continues the fluff. I need some lighthearted fluff. Thank you for all the sweet reviews, it definitely makes my day happier and feeds my inner nerd which then turns into wordy story goodness. Bo makes a non-drunk appearance. I'm not a fan of Byson, but I am coming around to Bo-Bo & Tam-Tam. Well I will see you all tomorrow for another round of Dyson and Kenzi's awkward adventures in love!


	5. A Pair of Keys

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_05 December, 2013_

"Remind me again why I'm doing _you _a favor," the pert woman asked as she jiggled her foot against the back of the squad car.

Hale shifted visibly in the passenger seat, "Because I'm paying for you dry cleaning, and I'll buy the drinks after this."

"Top shelf," Kenzi prodded, still more than annoyed with Hale.

"I guess," Hale bowed out. "And you won't kill me?"

"No deal," Kenzi ground out, slamming her combat boot against the metal grate.

"Hey," Dyson growled smacking his hand against the grate, "settle down back there!"

A tiny pink tongue sticking out from between two glossy red lips was the response Kenzi gave. "Make me," she sneered.

"I will come back there and spank you, Young Lady," Dyson mock-glared into the rearview mirror, his grey eyes locking with her green eyes.

"I'd like to see you try," Kenzi returned, snapping her gum, blowing bubbles and popping them sharply.

Before Dyson could respond Hale groaned, "Would you two please stop before I have to turn a hose on you!"

"Sorry," Dyson laughed as he drove to the station. "Kenzi are you ready?"

Kenzi rolled her eyes, "Oh Sweetheart, I've been grifting since the Cookie Caper of '93."

"What," Hale muttered.

"Look I was a precocious four year old who was denied a second cookie. So I stole the cookies and the vodka," Kenzi told him darkly.

"What," Hale repeated.

Kenzi shrugged, shifting so that her handcuffed hands weren't pressed into the seat, "Don't you dunk your cookies into vodka?"

"No," Hale exclaimed more than a little perplexed.

"Your missing you," Kenzi sighed happily. "Happy Vodka Cookies are the absolute best."

"Pun intended," Dyson wondered.

Kenzi mock-choked, "I'm a Green Label girl. Specially smuggled into the country by my Uncle Vlad, I would not touch anything else."

"Really," Dyson asked.

"Well, besides the barrel vodka my Grandpa Niko used to make, I've only made a few batches here in the states," Kenzi reminisced.

Hale frowned and twisted to face the girl, "You do realize that you're in a car, in handcuffs with two cops?"

"Both of whom I have enough dirt on to bury, plant a tree, and sip sweet tea beneath," Kenzi fired back.

"Like I was saying," Dyson cut in, "are you ready, Kenz?"

"And like I was saying, I'm always ready." Both men coughed lightly at the suggestive statement.

* * *

Kenzi sagged as Dyson pressed her forward, making him struggle to keep her upright. If there was one thing that Kenzi knew how to do, it was how to put on a show. Dyson wasn't half bad himself. He promptly jerked her upright, shaking her lightly. She stepped forward, jerking in a false-attempt to get free.

"Get off," she snarled.

"Keep moving," Dyson answered tightly.

Kenzi wriggled again, trying to throw Dyson off balance. It was a futile attempt. There was no way that Kenzi who might have weighed a buck-five soaking wet would through of a fae, and a shifter fae at that.

"Ah," Kenzi growled in frustration, shoving back, her hands brushing against firm denim and things that may or may not have been pressing against the denim.

"Kenzi," Dyson growled under his breath. She was good, _too_ good. Dyson was becoming more than a little uncomfortable with the writhing and bouncing bits of Kenzi that happened to be a little too close for public consumption. Quickly, Dyson guided Kenzi towards the holding cells and to where her real mission would begin.

At the same time as Kenzi's admittance another person joined her, having watched the scene she had put on in the bullpen. For extra effect Kenzi shook Dyson off as he took her cuffs off, "Pig!"

Dyson shook his head and walked out of the room, leaving Kenzi and her new cell mate to hang. Kenzi sighed and turned on her heel, so it was a little cold for a white tank top and a plaid miniskirt, but Kenzi was a method actress. She didn't go around in skin-tight jeans pretending to be a slutty pick-pocket, which just happened to be her cover for the morning.

Popping her gum once more, Kenzi appraised the suspect that the precinct had been struggling with. "So," she dropped onto the concrete bench, "what you in for?"

The young, blonde, man shook his head. He was wearing ripped up jeans and converse, a large hoodie and a skullcap. "I'm innocent," he responded with a tight smile.

Kenzi scoffed, "Yeah, me too."

"I am," the guy asserted.

"Sure, whatevs," Kenzi agreed. "So what does the establishment call you?"

"Really," the man asked. "Tim."

"Ooh," Kenzi swung her legs up onto the bench, laying down and stretching her legs into the air, milky skin stretching taut. "Tim is a pretty badass name."

Tim stared at the dark haired woman. He could just see the curve of her ass beneath the tiny skirt. "What do they call you?"

"Sasha," Kenzi offered, dropping one leg down and draping the other over her bent knee.

"And what are you in for, Sasha," Tim smirked, standing and moving closer to her.

"Well I pick pocketed the jackass that threw me in here, and then he had the balls to feel me up," Kenzi huffed.

Tim sat down at Kenzi's feet, his fingers inching across her boot, slipping up the ankle and walking across her bare calf, her knee, down her thigh. "I could probably help you get off."

Kenzi sat up, leaning forward and resisting the urge to bring her boot down on _somebody's_ Christmas package. "Really?"

Tim nodded, his fingers curling around her upper thigh, "I might have a trick or two up my sleeve."

"That sounds too good to be true," Kenzi lifted his hand off her thigh, methodically, metaphorically, stepping back. "How?"

Tim licked his lips, "My cousin is a cop in another precinct."

"So," Kenzi pressed. "What he just takes you into custody?"

"Yeah, and then loses the paperwork," Tim confided. "You wouldn't believe the jams he's gotten me out of."

"Oh," Kenzi bit her lip, eyelashes fluttering quickly, breasts pressed up and together.

"Yeah stuff way worse than a little theft. I stole a Porsche last month, and the report with my description mysteriously got lost in the system," Tim grinned, dropping his hand back onto Kenzi's thigh.

"Okay," she agreed. "But what's in it for you to help me?"

"Sasha," he sighed lightly, a small frown on his lips. "I just want to help a very good friend of mine, _very_ good friend."

"Well," Dyson muttered from the door and Tim jumped away, giving Kenzi the chance to slip out of the cell that had never been lcoked. "That was quite the confession."

"What," Tim exclaimed, rushing to the door and Kenzi who rotated the key in the lock and skipped backwards. Tim Froze, nostrils flaring, lips thinning in anger. "This is inadmissible in court! I was lying to get laid."

Dyson stepped forward and lay an arm around Kenzi's shoulders. "That might be true, if your cousin hadn't just shown up and flipped on you when he saw that confession."

"You bitch," Tim growled, gripping the cell bars and pushing furiously.

"Actually," Kenzi smirked, cherry lips curving gracefully, "that would be you. Bye-bye." Stepping backwards and closer to Dyson, Kenzi lifted her hand and gave a quick wave of farewell. Dyson chuckled darkly, following Kenzi out of the room.

Kenzi was met with a round of applause. She halted and slid into a curtsy, hand twisting into a pretty flourish as she took her bows. "Thank you, thank you," she blew a kiss and winked playfully.

Dyson covered the smile on his face with a hand, his free arm crossed over his stomach. "You did good, Kenz."

"I know," she smiled. "But you so owe me, that guy _was_ kinda gross."

Dyson led her over to his desk and she quickly sat in his chair, fiddling with the height before he caught her attention by leaning in and dangling something shiny in front of her eyes. "Just between you and I," he told her. "One pair of handcuff keys, from me to you."

Kenzi's eyes sparkled darkly and she snatched the keys from between Dyson's fingers. "I'll take it to the grave," she promised, crossing her heart and smiling widely. "I am going to have so much fun with you, my precious little shinies!"

"And with that," Dyson helped her out of the chair, "you should go before I have to arrest you for real."

"You say that," Kenzi sighed, eyes a little moony, "but all I hear is a chance to use my new prezzie!"

"Out," Dyson pointed laughingly. "I need Hale to do some paperwork, and right now he's too afraid to come out of the shooting range."

"Fine," Kenzi pouted, before reaching out and hugging Dyson lightly. She retreated quickly and skipped out of the precinct before he could even call out a goodbye.

* * *

Outside of the precinct Kenzi took off at a run, she had a good distance to cover in a short amount of time. Kenzi slipped down alleys and dodged across the light traffic. She knew immediately when her head-start was over, her phone buzzed harshly against her bare breast where it was tucked beneath her bra.

Dyson was most definitely aware that she had swiped his handcuffs. To be honest he had it coming. Giving her the keys was a nice gesture, a fun gesture, but he should have seen what was coming. Kenzi had plans, she had fun plans. Plans that involved a certain Valkyrie and a certain Succubus. Of course those plans would be finished before she could even do any plotting if Kenzi didn't leg it to her safe house.

* * *

Safe house might have been an overstatement. All it really was, was an old dance studio. One Kenzi had found early on in her independent life. She didn't dance much anymore, not after everything with her Stepfather. He had just tainted her source of joy. When she did dance, or just needed a few minutes away from the world, Kenzi would slip away to her own little studio. It had been abandoned due to poor success. The windows were gone, replaced with spray painted wood. The floor was mostly free of dirt and dust, and only a few of the ballet mirrors were missing.

It was her little secret.

Stretching out on the floor, Kenzi twirled the handcuffs around her index finger. Wondering precisely how she was going to manage to handcuff Tamsin and Bo together and not get Succubused or Valkyried in the process.

It wouldn't be impossible. It would just require a little cunning, and maybe a little more vodka.

* * *

Plunking the icy bottle down onto the counter, Kenzi grinned at her friends. "Tonight we play Cards Against Humanity."

"What," Tamsin drawled dryly.

"Okay, maybe Cards Against Faeanity," Kenzi utter the correction.

"What is it," Bo asked hand reaching out to pick at the cards.

"The best game ever," Kenzi exclaimed, her hands slamming down on the counter. "Every lost point is a shot."

* * *

"What will always get you laid," Kenzi asked, reciveing more than a few giggles and one or two snorts from Tamsin. They had only been playing for an hour and already both were more than a little tipsy.

"Ooh," Bo gasped, pushing her answer card towards Kenzi before wincing at the quick movement. Tamsin slapped her own card down next to Bo's.

Kenzi picked both up and shuddered lightly. "Bo-Bo says…Used Panties, and Tam-Tam's response is, oh my god, _Altar Boys_." Tamsin cackled sharply, taking a shot just for the hell of it. "I think," Kenzi paused, "this round goes to Tamsin and her corruption of…blech." Kenzi dropped the cards in the used pile before taking a shot herself.

"Chug," Bo giggled, grabbing the bottle from Kenzi and tipping it over her head only to have it ripped away by Tamsin.

The human raised a hand to her nose, pinching the bridge slightly, "This is _way_ too easy."

With a quick flash of movement Kenzi had snapped the handcuffs around Bo and Tamsin's wrists. "What," Bo slurred slightly before she slipped off her stool taking Tamsin with her, the nearly empty bottle of vodka sloshing over them both before rolling under the table.

"Goodnight Fae," Kenzi snickered before burping and stepping over the two uncpncious women.

* * *

Dropping into bed, Kenzi finally opened Dyson's text from earlier in the day. Well, 'text' was a fib, there were now a dozen, a baker's dozen. _ You can come get them anytime, Wolf-man_, Kenzi sent before she rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. She may have been Russian, but even she couldn't drink _two_ fae with healing powers under the table.

* * *

"_A child of five would understand this. Send someone to fetch a child of five."__  
__-Groucho Marx_

* * *

A/N: 5/25. That's like a fifth of it done. If you have never heard of Cards Against Humanity, it is exactly what it sounds like, and a lot of fun. Hope you enjoyed the trouble Kenzi is getting into, and the torture she is putting Hale through. Revenge, after all, is a dish best served cold, very, very cold. Lots of love and thanks for the reviews.


	6. Cotton Candy

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_06 December, 2013_

Kenzi swung the door open in anger, hand on hip, "Yeah?"

"Aren't you perky in the morning," Dyson grinned, holding out his hand expectantly.

Kenzi cocked her hip sharply. She knew exactly why and for what Dyson was standing in her doorway. The problem with that happened to be that Dyson's shiny silver handcuffs happened to be occupied at the moment.

"Aren't you an early riser," Kenzi said darkly.

He nodded, "That has been known to be said."

"Ew," Kenzi's brain processed the comment. "And I sort of walked into that."

"And now," Dyson prodded, "you're going to let me walk in to the house."

"Am I," Kenzi questioned, voice pitching higher. "Am I?"

"You are," Dyson stopped slightly, nearly coming nose to nose with the younger woman.

"_Really_," Kenzi continued, "Am I?"

Dyson exhaled quickly through his nose before stepping forward, forcing Kenzi to step back. "Is that alcohol I smell on your skin?"

Kenzi crossed her arms in front of her stomach, "Is that smart I smell on your ass?"

Dyson snorted shortly, "Oh, Kenzi, morning is really not a good time for you."

She was cringing, her wit falling more than a little short with each part of their normal repartee. "Just stop wording," Kenzi grumbled, pressing a delicate hand against her eyes.

"Then hand over my handcuffs," Dyson pushed, closing the door behind him as he followed Kenzi into the kitchen.

Kenzi smiled sweetly, turning and taking on an innocent affectation. "Be my guest."

Being the very smart, very perceptive detective that he was, he wasn't at all fooled by the soft tone or the sweep of her arm welcoming him further into the building. "As nice as that sounds," Dyson fiddled with a vase that had tipped over, likely in the course of whatever had his handcuffs missing in action, "I think I'll pass."

Kenzi shrugged her shoulders and tipped over the back of the couch, stretching and twisting slightly in order to get comfortable. "Tough break," she moaned.

Dyson padded across the rough wood floor to gaze down at Kenzi. Her tank had ridden up, exposing taut, pale skin, the start of a slight scar trailing across her hipbone. She twisted again, back arching before rolling into a more relaxed state. The hips on that girl, they were something. The subtle flair, the flexibility, the play of muscle, and the delicate concaves that changed and shifted with each of her movements, Dyson was definitely in trouble.

Settling on the back of the couch, Dyson leaned down, letting one hand drop down beside Kenzi's hip. The weight of Dyson's braced hand made Kenzi slide slightly towards the edge of the couch. She squeaked as she rolled into Dyson's firm arm.

She pushed against his arm, glaring up at him, "Tough break," he responded with a smirk.

"Jerk," Kenzi pouted, crossing her arms under her chest.

"Ditto," Dyson responded.

A rough clatter shook them from the silent moment, "Motherfucker," the distinct, smooth, voice of Tamsin yelped followed by the crash of more than one or two glass bottles.

"Uh-oh," Kenzi muttered. With the grace of the dancer she was, Kenzi slipped under Dyson's arm, grabbed a half full duffle and skidded towards the door. "See you later, D-man."

The slam of the door was the last he heard from Kenzi. It shouldn't have been feasible that a _human_ was capable of escaping him not once, but twice in as many days. But then, this _was_ Kenzi. Kenzi had proved herself capable of more things than he thought a human possible of, more things than he though a fae capable.

* * *

Hale swore, his lips tightening as he threw a book across the room. It smacked loudly against the wall before dropping flatly to the floor. Hale sighed before shuddering at the mess that was on his bedroom floor. "Kenzi," he groaned and shifted in his stance on the bed. "I am going to kill that girl."

Gagging, Hale chucked a book across the room, it hit the wall before landing with a squelch as it crushed several of the multitude of spiders that had invaded his room. It had started with a tickling on his thigh as he lazed in bed. Then it had become an odd movement upward, odd enough that Hale had thrown off his blankets and screamed. There were six spiders making their way up his leg, slow and steady. With six careful flicks, Hale rid himself of the beady eyed beasts, rolled over and came face to face with a veritable swarm of spiders scrambling across his wood floor.

Books had been the best option. So Hale had begun playing a twisted version of squash. The books certainly didn't bounce, but the guts sort of did.

The morning had been a trial of gagging and smashing. When Hale _did_ manage to get to his closet and find a pair of pants that weren't lined with little spiders it was another furniture hopping experience to get to his door and leave the hellhole his apartment had become overnight.

That, however, was not the end of _Hale's Tale of Morning Glory_. His key jammed in his lock, and when he finally got it free, he turned around only to be slammed in the face with a newspaper which fell limply down to the mat. The surprised, wide, eyes narrowed and Hale winced as the creases between his brows began to ache gently. "This day _is_ going to suck."

* * *

Dyson, meanwhile, was sensing that his day was going to get progressively worse, at least at the moment. After Kenzi's frenzied exit, there had been several more crashes, a great deal of swearing and some heavy thumping from Bo's room, and the distinct crawling sensation on the back of his neck, a sort of seventh sense.

"You," Bo seethed, finger pointed sharply at him, Tamsin half behind her clutching the doorjamb to remain upright. "You did this!"

"I really didn't," Dyson backed up.

"These are yours," Bo gritted out. "Ergo, you did it."

"Did you just use 'ergo'," Dyson asked incredulously. "Correctly."

"I did," Bo wondered, brain stuttering roughly.

"I think so," Dyson agreed, buying himself a few seconds to edge towards and out the door as Bo and Tamsin tried to puzzle out how words worked.

* * *

"This is weird," Kenzi was the first to speak.

Dyson frowned, or smiled, "You're the one who is upside down."

Kenzi was indeed upside down, her head hanging off the seat of a chair, her legs draped over the back. "Or maybe it's you."

"Kenz," Dyson warned her lightly.

She continued regardless of Dyson's comment, "What is upside down?"

"Kenz," Dyson tried again. She ignored him and tipped her head further back, almost tucking her head under the chair so she could sip from the straw in her drink below her.

Trick came out from behind the bar and stood beside Dyson, glancing up at the younger man, "It's no use. She's had two of those so far, and they pack a punch."

"What is it," Dyson asked, staring at the odd red and orange drink.

Trick shrugged, "I have no idea, she made it herself and I almost got drunk off the _fumes_."

"And that explains part of her behavior, but why is she doing a rendition of the Mad Hatter?"

"I found a book," Kenzi grinned brightly, teeth flashing. "_I_ am waiting, for God-oh."

"Book," he demanded, extending a hand for the newly offensive object.

Petulantly, Kenzi arched her back and slipped the thin text from beneath her. With an annoyed huff, she slapped the paperback into Dyson's hand. He skimmed the title and smiled, "Like they always say, Kenz, a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Especially if you've been drinking."

"Is _that_ what they say," Kenzi's lips puckered, and she twitched her nose lightly.

* * *

After talking Kenzi off an absurd ledge, and staying out of Trick's, Dyson and Kenzi sat waiting for the festivities to kick off. It was December 6th after all, the feast day of Saint Nicholas. It was, apparently, a Fae tradition. With lots of festivities and food, and apparently it was one of the few times where Trick relaxed the rules.

So far there had been two near fires and one slight shower, happily, the games were up and running, and there was cheating galore. The candy was flowing and so was the vodka. Kenzi and Dyson sat watching the chaos, Dyson whispering small bits of info about different fae into Kenzi's ear.

She was two or three drinks gone, and Kenzi's skin was on fire. Not literally, of course, in a good, soft, sort of naughty way. That and Kenzi was half sure that Dyson's hand was squeezing her knee gently, and maybe he was drawing circles on her inner thigh. But that could also be the drinks, Irish whiskey and too much rum, tequila, and gin led to bad, bad brainless things. And clearly it was causing her to hallucinate and make the lights all sparkly.

"Dyson," she leaned on him, her head nestled on his shoulder

"Kenzi," he mimicked, looping an arm around her and stroking her arm gently.

"This is nice, non-death nice," she sighed squirming on her bar seat as she began to tire.

Shaking Kenzi lightly to keep her conscious, Dyson stood up, supporting Kenzi as he did, "Come on, time to get some sugar into you."

"I like sugar," Kenzi giggled. "I like licking it off my glass, and other things."

* * *

As Dyson swirled a paper cone through the silvery looking threads of sugar, he stared at Kenzi, making faces just to keep her engaged. Two minutes and way too much sugar later, Dyson presented Kenzi with a ginormous stick of cotton candy. "M'lady," he bowed gently.

Kenzi accepted the treat with wide eyes, immediately taking a bite and unrolling it with her teeth. After only a few chews, her lips were coated with a glittering sugar crystal gloss. Dyson licked his own lips, regretting his decision about getting her cotton candy immensely. Clearly he had a fixation. Anything Kenzi did made him smile, even when she was pulling something over on him. This was purgatory. A state of uncertainty. An unending agony.

Dyson took a step closer, his body acting on its own. Two more steps and he could toss the candy aside and kiss her lips clean. He could suckle and worry her soft lips.

The wolf's movements were halted quickly as someone stormed between him and his intended target. Dyson growled.

Kenzi started as Hale appeared in front of her, his face stone-like. "You," he growled, I know it was you!"

"What," Kenzi asked, her senses returning with each gulp of sugar.

Hale spun, pacing in clear frustration, "The spiders, you put spiders in my apartment! And not just one or two, but a whole cluster of them."

"Fu—dge," Kenzi exclaimed in genuine shock.

Hale froze, "That wasn't you?"

"K-arma," Kenzi sang. "You get what you give."

Hale sighed, the anger draining out of him he backed off and sat down beside Kenzi, Dyson taking the seat on her other side. "It has been one hell of a day," Hale continued. "After the spiders, the paperboy threw the newspaper right in my face, I got papercuts!"

Kenzi snorted, choking lightly, "Now _that_," she spoke lightly, "_that_ was me."

Dyson smirked behind the rim of his glass as Hale spewed his freshly poured beer out his nose. "You...," he choked.

Kenzi shrugged, "Karma's a beyatch. So is Kenzi."

Hale was boiling, so Dyson, being the good friend that he was, helped Kenzi to her feet and guided her far, far away from the man who could literally scream their heads off and carried a gun.

"Not bad," he whispered in her ear, drawing her over to Vex's magic station.

Kenzi shrugged, unconsciously moving closer into Dyson's form, "I have my moments."

In silence, they watched Vex use his Mesmer powers to make the 'volunteers' do some very, very wild things, things that bordered on illegal. Out of the corner of her eye, Kenzi noticed Bo and Tamsin, still locked together, they were taking on two elemental fae in a drinking contest which looked like it may turn into yet another orgy—handcuffs or not. Kenzi never noticed that Dyson was all but marking his territory, growling and glaring at any man or woman who approached them.

The night ended with Kenzi and Dyson strolling down the nearly empty streets. Hands linked and swinging between them, every few yards, Dyson would force her into a pirouette. She would giggle and spin towards him, dragging him more than once into a quick spin. With nowhere to be, and no one waiting on them, Kenzi and Dyson found themselves caught in the first snow of December. The snowflakes drifting and swirling down around them, dotting her midnight hair with white and leaving Dyson's curls damp.

With matching smiles, Dyson and Kenzi kept walking, the chaos of the day fading as night fell.

* * *

"_Even in the valley of the shadow of death, two and two do not make six."__  
__-Leo Tolstoy_

* * *

A/N: 6/25. I'm a romantic at heart and a cynic in public. Some people think that those two things are binary. This is why I love the rare-pairings and why I root for the villain (at times). We are going to see plenty of Bo/Tam fluff and friendship, lots of Dyson being a sucker and Kenzi being adorbs. Until tomorrow, thank you for the reviews, hope you enjoy this chappie. Love to you all!


	7. Steak & Mashed Potatoes

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_07 December, 2013_

"Ridiculous," the young woman shook her head, her body firmly planted in the doorway of the house.

"Come on," the man pleaded. "You owe me."

The woman's eyes flashed darkly, "_I_ owe _you_?"

"Yes," the man insisted waveringly.

"Interesting theory," her sickly sweet voice slid through the cool air, "but no."

"Aw, come on, Lil Momma'," Hale said exasperatedly. "I am begging here."

Kenzi smirked, "If you were begging, there would be vodka, chocolate, and you would be on your knees."

Hale groaned and delicately knelt, clasping his hands together, "Please, can I stay here. Just for tonight, last night I slept on two table I pushed together at the Dal. Please."

Kenzi shifted from one foot to the other. "Like I said last night, Karma's a bitch, and so am I."

"Kenzi," Hale's temper was starting to break. "I'm going to ask one more time, please can I stay here?"

Sighing, Kenzi muttered, "Fine."

"Thank you," Hale launched himself at Kenzi, his face smushed against her d-ring laden corset and his arms winding all the way around her torso. "I can't go home, they're everywhere!"

"Kenzi pushed Hale back by his shoulders, "Haven't you called an exterminator?"

"They wouldn't take the job," Hale sighed.

Kenzi peered at the older man, checking, as subtly as she could that he was critter-free, "Are you clean?"

Hale huffed indignantly, "Of course I am!"

Kenzi shrugged, "Hey, we've already had a spider problem here, we don't need another one."

Hale glanced around the ramshackle house, "Really, just one?"

That earned him a thump on the back of the head, "Come on, you may as well get comfortable. I'm having a lazy day. So is Bo-Bo."

Hesitantly, Hale sat down on the couch. It looked like, at one point or another, it may have been a crime scene. It had bizarre stains spattered about. Steeling himself, Hale sat down, a little glad that he knew more than a thing or two about clothing care. More precisely, he knew a Fae with one very specific talent.

"So," Hale asked, setting his hat on his knee. "What are we doing today?"

Hale, were a little more adept at reading Kenzi's poker face might have known that it was that question that happened to be the final nail in his coffin.

"We're going to go check on Bo," Kenzi smirked. "I promised her I would wake her up. Would you mind helping me out?"

"I guess," Hale offered, "she's not in there with some dude, I'm not about to see some dude's junk, am I?"

"No," Kenzi answered lightly. "That definitely won't happen."

* * *

Dyson frowned as approached his front door. It had been a long, dull, day at work, that however, seemed to be over. He could sense someone in his apartment. While the list of possible inhabitants wasn't long, there was no one who immediately sprang to mind. Hale wouldn't dare to invade his space upon pain of death, and he would know if any of his former pack mates were in town. Trick was wise enough not to invade his territory, Tamsin might, but she had barely showed her face without Bo, and vice versa, which ruled them out.

Perhaps a little too eager for some action, Dyson proceeded into his apartment, ready to walk into a trap or catch the invader unawares.

Sliding the door open, Dyson stepped in to his apartment. Everything looked normal, and then he heard it, a soft squeaking noise.

He wasn't prepared to see Kenzi walking on top of his island counter. Her back was to him, her body looked as though it was suspended in water, her movements slow and graceful, weightless. Dyson froze, mind going blank as he watched the lines of her body bend, stretch and extend. Her legs parted, one falling in front of her the other behind, strong hips kept her torso immobile while her legs bent slowly, the leg nearest Dyson bent at the knee, toes pointed at the ceiling. The other leg bent at the knee, the toes pointed towards the floor.

Slowly, painfully so, Kenzi brought her legs back together, skin sliding against skin, light bouncing off the gentle curve of her calves and thighs. Dyson swallowed thickly. He took a step forward on silent feet, his keys sliding into his pocket, noiselessly. She moved again, her legs descending together, until she was bent in half, her toes just hovering above the ground. With another soft squeak, Kenzi's left foot touched down, her torso and right leg rising until her body was perpendicular with her left leg.

The moment her head began to rise, and the hair fell out her face, Dyson knew he was caught. Her half-lidded eyes snapped open fully.

"Hi, Kenzi," Dyson said.

Kenzi straightened, shifting from barefoot to barefoot. "Hi," she offered weakly.

"Hi," he repeated, entirely unsure of what to say or do.

"Hi?"

Dyson stepped closer, coming flush with the counter. Resting his hands on the surface rather close to Kenzi's feet, the wolf smiled up at Kenzi, getting a wonderful eyeful of soft bare skin and skintight shorts and tank. "What are you doing here, Kenz," Dyson asked, glad the counter and his jeans were hiding a growing problem he seemed to be having.

Kenzi rose on her tiptoes, "Hiding."

"From what," Dyson prodded gently, one hand creeping against the edge of her foot, gently brushing the arch.

Kenzi shivered. "Well," she wheedled.

* * *

Hale stepped quietly into the bedroom, Kenzi having waved him on first. There was a large lump on the bed, and Hale was suddenly sure that Kenzi had lied about the dude and his junk. His musing was interrupted by a very distinctive, very loud sound. The _fwaaaaaht_ of an air horn being blown was the first sound. The second was the slam of the door. The third was the clank of the air horn as it hit the wood floor.

Two snarling Fae came flying from beneath the voluminous covers. "Shit," Hale gasped, and that was the last comprehensible sound he made before scrambling for the locked door and Bo and Tamsin descending upon him.

* * *

"I _may_ or may not have locked Hale in with Tamsin and Bo after waking them up, and they may or may not still be handcuffed together," Kenzi bounced lightly on her feet.

Dyson laughed softly, eyes following each movement she made. "I suppose I could be persuaded to harbor you," his eyes crinkled at the corner.

"Really," Kenzi tiptoed closer.

Dyson nodded lightly, "Really, I'll even make dinner."

"Can we watch a movie," Kenzi asked impishly.

"I suppose that could be arranged," Dyson smiled. "Now are you ready to come down?"

"I suppose," Kenzi agreed, setting her hands on Dyson's shoulders as his came to rest on her hips. With the ease of his supernatural strength and Kenzi's petite form, Dyson lifted her down from the counter and spun her around, settling her on the cool concrete floor.

Almost instantaneously, Kenzi had picked up her feet and stepped onto his shoes, her arms slipping down his chest to slide under his leather jacket and around him. She felt him chuckle silently, the rumble of his chest making her own tingle.

Taking a step forward, Dyson brushed his fingers against Kenzi's temple, her silky hair slipping across his skin. Gazing at Kenzi, memorizing each fleck in her irises, he moved across the apartment until had reached the couch. With one last squeeze, Dyson lifted Kenzi up and tossed her onto the couch.

Kenzi bounced, her body curling up instinctively. "You sit here," Dyson ordered, "And I'm going to whip up some steaks and mashed potatoes."

"Yay," Kenzi cheered, shivering lightly. "Wait, take me with," she exclaimed as Dyson turned away.

"Kenz," Dyson said, "stay here, relax."

"I'll get bored," Kenzi warned him. "When I'm bored I play with weapons."

"Alright," Dyson conceded and lifted Kenzi off the couch, cradling her in his arms. With Kenzi settled on a spare bit of counter, Dyson began to move around the kitchen pulling out pots and pans. He stopped when he noticed Kenzi shifting and rubbing her feet together, "Are you okay?"

"Yep," she offered.

Dyson nodded and kept moving around the apartment. He slipped out of the kitchen for a moment while his grill pan began to sizzle and pop softly. Kenzi hummed lightly and twiddled her thumbs, shifting her legs and feet subtly.

Dyson returned as quietly as he left, kneeling down in front and gently sliding a pair of his socks onto her feet. They swamped her tiny feet, even rolled at the ends so they wouldn't slip off. Smiling, Kenzi wrapped her ankles around Dyson's hips as he rose, dragging him closer.

"You're the best," she grinned, reaching up and curling her arms around his shoulders, kissing his jaw lightly.

* * *

Smiling, Dyson set their dinner down on the coffee table, Kenzi having set up a blankets and pillows on the floor so they could be cuddled up while they ate. Kenzi was already settled happily, the movie of the night cued up and ready to go.

"Here we go," Dyson said as he settled on the floor.

Kenzi leaned forward, steam rising from the mashed potatoes, and her steak leaking a dark liquid, she moaned. Dyson shifted, turning slightly towards the human girl. He watched her pick up her knife and fork and dig into the steak. She shuddered, eyes slipping closed at the first bite. "Oh my Fae," Kenzi gasped.

"Good," Dyson asked.

"Go away," Kenzi muttered as she took another bite of steak. "Not really," she swallowed, "I just need to be alone with steak, because I may have to have sex with it."

Dyson bit back the growl, "Do I need to separate you two?" He reached for her plate, she growled, slapping at his hands. He inhaled sharply. He loved this side of her. The side that was so Kenzi and so unique that no other human or Fae could ever compare.

Sitting back and tucking into his own meal, Dyson kept one eye on Kenzi. When she did come up for air, she pressed play and started the movie. It wasn't particularly festive, but it was one of Kenzi's favorite films, and Dyson hadn't seen it, so she had made an executive decision.

As the movie progressed, Dyson's expression shifted from bored to amused. He pushed their plates away and slid one arm around Kenzi, pulling her closer. He could feel her muscles tense could hear her almost whispering some of lines along with the characters.

She giggled as the two main characters began to argue and play fight. Dyson glanced down at Kenzi. Her lower lip was trapped between her teeth, and her breathing was a little heavier.

Dyson inhaled deeply, her scent had shifted slightly, it was spicier, less calm vanilla. "So," he asked, "why do you like this scene so much?"

Kenzi shifted, "I'm a sucker for an accent, they're just so yummy."

"Aye," Dyson smirked, leaning down and whispering in her ear, his brogue coming out in full force, "is that so Lass?"

"Hm," Kenzi moaned in surprise, "Not fair!"

Dyson laughed throatily. "And fair was that little performance you put on in just about nothing on top of my counter?"

"Hey, you're the one that walked in on it, I didn't flaunt it on purpose," Kenzi argued, turning to face Dyson, her chest brushing against him.

"I repeat, on top of _my_ counter," Dyson growled shifting so he was almost nose to nose with her.

"But I wasn't trying to…," Kenzi growled with frustration. "You don't like me like that," she finished.

"Who says," Dyson asked, eyes darkening with each moment.

"Uh," Kenzi faltered, her heartbeat pounding in her veins.

Leaning closer, Dyson brushed his nose against hers, his lips whispering a hairsbreadth from hers. Their breaths mingled, Dyson's hand running up her arm, gently squeezing her shoulder before tracing his thumb across the pulse point in her neck, it fluttered under his touch.

A flurry of 'fuck's' shattered the moment that Kenzi's was half certain wasn't a moment. Dyson and Kenzi drifted apart, focus returning, in pretense, to the movie they were watching.

* * *

_"All human actions have one or more of these seven causes: chance, nature, compulsions, habit, reason, passion, desire."_  
_-Aristotle_

* * *

A/N: 7/25. Well, I'm pretty sure Kenzi has more self control than I have. I barely resisted jumping Dyson while writing this. I really love fluff. Really love it. Love you all, talk to you tomorrow!


	8. A Fire

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_08 December, 2013_

Kenzi fell asleep before the movie ended, so Dyson had turned it off. Instead of waking the little gypsy, however, Dyson let her sleep, pulling her closer. He buried his nose against her neck, hand tracing the curve of her side, catching lightly on the bare skin of hip. It was just past midnight, Dyson's mind wandered.

He held her closer as he remembered the incident with Inari. It had nearly broken him. He hadn't quite been able to sleep in his bed since he had killed Kenzi's duplicate. More than once a week, Dyson would find himself sneaking over to the Clubhouse and checking up on her. His sanity demanded it.

Now, Dyson was faced with a conundrum. Did he play the gentleman and buck up and lay Kenzi in his bed, the bed that he had feared he killed her in, or did he lay down on the couch and keep Kenzi where he could see her.

His emotions won out, gently, Dyson stood, picking Kenzi up and laying down on the couch, draping her on top of himself. Kenzi snuggled against his chest, Dyson smiled against the crown of her head. Carefully, Dyson pulled a blanket down on them, encasing them both in warmth.

The gentle whisper of her breath through his thin t-shirt was a small spot of joy. The way she twisted and her body molded to fit his was another. Dyson wasn't quite sure why he had waited so long to admit he was falling for Kenzi. There had been so many things happening when he had first come upon Kenzi, leaving her in that alley had just _seemed_ wrong, but he had pushed that niggling feeling from his head.

When she had formally been introduced, it had been a quick spark which her humanity had quickly extinguished. That hadn't lasted long. But all of his emotions had been buried once more, this time in lieu of his servitude to The Blood King. He had settled for being her friend, protecting her when he could, and showing her as much love and attention as he could without arousing suspicions.

Kenzi had in a matter of days infected, over the weeks, months, and years she had buried herself deep in his life, his mind, and into his very being. Where he had always had to be strong, she showed him it was okay not to be. She had saved him, time and time again, selflessly. She was something else.

Dyson struggled to keep his eyes open, he wanted, needed, to remember every moment he could of Kenzi press on top of him. For so long he had feared, dreaded, that this might only happen in some strange alternate existence. He wasn't even sure if it was happening. He hoped it was, but Kenzi's nearness was playing havoc with him. She was relaxing his body and muddling his mind. His eyes drooped, closed then sluggishly opened, his grip re-tightening on Kenzi.

It was a losing battle. Kenzi had lulled him to sleep, her warm vanilla scent and the rhythm of her heart against his chest.

* * *

Dyson groaned as the light hit his eyes, it was dawn. He blinked, shifting a little only to realize that Kenzi was snuggled atop him, legs intertwined with his. After savoring the moment, Dyson extracted himself from beneath Kenzi. She moaned at the loss of his heat, curling in on herself.

Though she had been quite still during the night, Kenzi was now moving quite a bit. One bare leg, kicked out from beneath the covers. Goosebumps immediately broke out across her skin. She shivered and twisted. Dyson gently tugged the covers into place, stroking her back comfortingly until she settled.

Rising, Dyson knew exactly what to do. In his experience, dating hadn't changed at all since he was a young lad. And maybe he hadn't quite gotten around to making himself known, or clear, or apparently a possibility, but he was going to.

* * *

Kenzi let Out a sigh, groaned and twisted beneath her covers. She was surprisingly toasty, the warmth lulling her body into a deeper sleep. A loud, low, pop jerked her mind from the hazy dreams. Twisting and dragging the blanket from her face, Kenzi's mouth dropped open in a yawn. When she had satisfied the urge to stretch, Kenzi blinked and gazed around. This certainly wasn't the Clubhouse, and it certainly wasn't the Dal. Which meant that this was…Dyson's apartment.

Struggling to sit up, Kenzi glanced around, and there was the proof. Dyson was crouched in front of a fireplace, stirring it up and feeding it more wood. He was shirtless, and Kenzi bit her tongue in an attempt to keep it civil and in her mouth.

Despite her attempt at silence, Dyson, being the shifter he was heard her rustling under the blankets and twisted on his foot to face her.

Kenzi smiled, "Hi."

"Hi," Dyson smiled, getting up to walk over to her. "How did you sleep?"

She frowned as she thought, how had she slept? "Good," she finally settled on, "really good."

"Good," Dyson sat on the edge of the couch, one hand resting on her hip.

Kenzi nodded, curling her toes, "Except, I think I had a really weird dream where you almost kissed me."

Dyson froze, of course she thought it was a dream. It was one more obstacle in his path on the way to Kenzi. With a smile, Dyson pushed down the anger and squeezed Kenzi's hip lightly. "That is something."

"It was kind of weird," Kenzi continued, "it felt like I was drowning in wolf-man scent."

His brow arched sharply, "Are you saying I smell?"

"No," Kenzi defended, "just you have a smell."

"That's exactly like saying I smell, Kenz," Dyson told her flatly.

"Is it," Kenzi asked, voice going up a notch.

"Mhm," Dyson confirmed, leaning forward, "Maybe I should throw you out in the snow."

Kenzi scrambled for purchase on the blanket as Dyson began to peel it off her, teasingly, slowly. "No," she gasped, a smile creeping across her lips. "I'll behave!"

Dyson let the blanket slip through his fingers, "Do you promise?"

"Yes," Kenzi laughed.

"So," Dyson said as he grabbed Kenzi's hands and puled her into a sitting position, "How about breakfast?"

"Can I just live with you and get fat and keep you company," Kenzi moaned with satisfaction.

Dyson flat out laughed, "Kenzi, if the way you eat now hasn't made you fat, I highly doubt letting me feed you would do that."

"I'm not hearing _no_," Kenzi smirked.

"No," Dyson replied ambiguously.

Kenzi frowned at him, was it a 'no' no, or was it a 'no' I didn't say no, 'no'. Before she could ask, Dyson was up and moving to the kitchen. Kenzi grumbled darkly, she absolutely hated cryptic answers, which certain Fae seemed to be extra good at giving.

Rising from the couch, Kenzi moved closer to the fireplace, stretching out in front of the fire. Her skin prickled at the sudden dry heat. Kenzi arched her back, tensing and releasing each muscle from her head down to her toes. From the kitchen she heard the soft clicking of plates and the sizzling of what Kenzi could only hope was bacon.

Letting her eyes slip closed, Kenzi wallowed in the heat, it reminded her of summers in Russia as a child. She and her cousins would run wild, swim, and play in the heat. Despite her pallor, Kenzi was quite fond of laying in the sun. Her body just didn't absorb and preserve those deliciously warm rays. The Clubhouse was a little too delicate for fires. Kenzi hadn't even dared to have a trashcan fire. She loved those too. She had more than one fond memory of discussing the daily haul over a hot fire.

Sighing, Kenzi stretched her arms above her head, whole body arching delicately. This was heaven. So absorbed in the heat, Kenzi didn't hear Dyson return from the kitchen. He stood, watching her lithe form arch against the carpet. Her legs slid to a bent position, Dyson swallowed, she looked like she was making love, her head thrown back, neck bared in submission.

Forcing himself to set the plates down, Dyson pasted a smile on his face, "Breakfast."

Her eyes snapped open and in one smooth movement she sat up, legs crossed and glanced at the plates. "Bacon?"

Dyson nodded, his self-control was depleting quickly. Kenzi had a very significant affect on him. "Bacon, pancakes, and runny-eggs."

"Mm," Kenzi moaned, reaching for the plate only to have Dyson pull it out of her reach.

"So," Dyson leaned towards her, "I cooked, what are _you_ going to do for me?"

Kenzi pouted, lower lip quivering, "What do you want?"

"I need a date," Dyson answered easily.

Kenzi's eyes shot open, "Excuse your fluffy-butt?"

"To a precinct holiday party on Friday," Dyson finished.

She reached for the plate again, and again, Dyson pulled it out of her reach. "Do I get to dress fancy and make people drool?"

"I was hoping you would," Dyson grinned.

"Fine," Kenzi sighed in mock-depression.

Before she could reach for her plate again, Dyson and forked a bit of pancake filled with chocolate chips and extended the buttery deliciousness towards her. After a moment's hesitation, Kenzi allowed Dyson to feed her the bite of pancake. He watched her lips close around the fork, dragging every speck of butter and chocolate from the silver implement. He smirked before offering her a slice of bacon from his fingers. Kenzi crossed her arms beneath her chest, looking at him in disbelief.

"If you were living with me, I don't think I would let you lift a fork to your own lips," Dyson smirked. "You would just lay around looking pretty, making people drool."

Kenzi giggled before leaning forward and biting into the bacon. Dyson grinned as she ate, swallowing the last of the bacon, his fingers pressed against her lips. He dragged his thumb across her lower lip, watching her tongue flit out and lap at the salt left on her lips and his fingers. Dyson was sure it wouldn't a conscious action, but the things it did to him were unnatural.

Air thick with tension, Dyson continued to feed Kenzi, his own meal going cold.

* * *

With a full belly, Kenzi walked up to the Clubhouse, freezing before she even made it halfway up the walk. There was someone sitting on top of her roof. Picking up an empty beer can, Kenzi whipped it up at the unconscious lump. It met its target with a hollow pop. The person yelped and scrambled to keep from falling.

"The hell," a very distinctive voice screamed.

"Hale," Kenzi called up. "Why are on the roof?"

"They got me, man," Hale shuddered, Kenzi finally noticed several nail marks on his face and his torn clothing. "They woke up and then they attacked, they're animals, man."

"Bo? Tamsin," Kenzi questioned.

Hale nodded, "They got my keys, and then while they were getting free I ran."

"Okay," Kenzi nodded before continuing inside, Hale calling for her to help him all the while.

Stepping inside the house, Kenzi found two very smug Fae. They were sitting at the kitchen counter over steaming cups of coffee and plates of danish laughing softly. Seeing their now bracelet free wrists, Kenzi smiled, "Congrats, you got free!"

"Oh yeah," Tamsin agreed. "We got free," Bo and Tamsin high-fived much to Kenzi's amusement.

"So where were you this morning, Missy," Bo asked as Kenzi settled a free stool.

Kenzi shrugged, "Friends to see, people to frighten."

Tamsin's eyes narrowed, she could sense that there was more to say, "That's all?"

"That's all," Kenzi confirmed.

"So why do you smell like bacon," Tamsin drawled.

Kenzi faltered, "I went a luau?"

"Of course," Bo caught Tamsin's vein of thought. "So why are you still wearing yesterday's clothes?"

Tamsin smirked, "Did you _get_ some?"

"No," Kenzi spluttered. "I was reading to the blind!"

Bo and Tamsin both fixed the human with intense stares, Kenzi gulped and rushed from the room. She may be a very brave, very snarky human, but even she wasn't going to go toe-to-toe with two smug Fae. Especially not on a Sunday.

* * *

"_A woman's appetite is twice that of a man's; her sexual desire, four times; her intelligence, eight times"_

_-Anonymous_

* * *

A/N: 8/25. With 12 days of work left and 4 times that many papers to grade, I'm a little glad I have this outlet. Thank you for all the love and reviews. It's hard to believe that winter is here, so here is some fluff to keep you warm!


	9. A Wolf

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_09 December, 2013_

"So," Hale said as he tossed a baseball into the air, "was that Kenzi I saw doing the walk of shame yesterday?"

Dyson slammed a file on top a stack, before turning to look at his partner. "Why were you at the Clubhouse?"

"Kenzi let me stay," Hale sniffed.

"Really," Dyson asked tightly.

"Yeah," Hale told him, "so was Kenzi at your place last night?"

"Why would you think that," Dyson fired back.

"Why wouldn't I," Hale returned.

Dyson shook his head and turned to peck at his keyboard.

Hale sat forward, "Come on, man, you were whistling this morning, you only whistle when you're happy. You're only happy lately, when you're with Kenzi."

Dyson hesitated while typing. "Other things make me happy," Dyson finally said.

"Name one," Hale argued.

"A mute partner," Dyson fired back.

Hale sat back in his chair, "Not cool, man."

"Tough love," Dyson growled.

"I don't know why I put up with your grouchy ass," Hale shook his head as he refocused on his work.

Dyson, on the other hand spent the morning entirely distracted. He had spent the night on the couch, the blanket Kenzi had used wrapped around him. It was the only way he had fallen asleep, her scent was calming.

He had woken disoriented, scrabbling for Kenzi, he had woken disappointed, terrified. He still had nightmares of Inari. Only, sometimes it was truly Kenzi he killed, not a doppelganger. A quick stop by the Clubhouse to check that Kenzi was alright had settled his mind. She was sleeping peacefully in bed. He had snuck out as easily as he had snuck in. He wondered if she ever had nightmares about the cave. He did, he had nightmares about what might have happened if they hadn't found her. Would she have cursed him, them all. In some ways he wondered how she could be so forgiving, it had taken far too long for _all_ of them to realize that _their_ Kenzi was not the one walking around and snarking. Too long.

* * *

Hale watched Dyson from behind a file. He _knew_ Kenzi had been at Dyson's. It had been a little _too_ easy to figure out. After escaping from the enraged succubus and valkyrie, Hale had taken refuge in Kenzi's room, before being forced to climb up to the roof. Kenzi had been nowhere in sight or sound.

A few phone calls, specifically to Kenzi and Trick led to the knowledge that Kenzi was not at the Clubhouse, and she wasn't at the Dal. Kenzi was a predictable creature. She would hide with someone she could trust. Somewhere he wouldn't be able to get her. Dyson. It was the only real answer that Hale could come up with.

Dyson might think he was subtle, but when you work with a man for so many years, you notice things. Things like where his eyes are when out with friends, what he does in his free time, and how many times he turns down a brew and a game because he already has plans. Kenzi, on the other hand, Hale was fairly certain, wasn't even aware of her feelings. They were a rom-com waiting to happen, and Hale was determined to be in the very center of it all.

"What are we doing for lunch," Hale asked abruptly.

Dyson's head flicked up, "I don't know."

It wasn't an unusual conversation. Living for an extended period of time often led to monotony. So the conversation wasn't unusual.

"What about the deli on fifth," Hale offered.

Dyson shrugged, "The burger place on seventh?"

"Chinese," Hale countered, "from the place on sixteenth."

"Sounds good," Dyson agreed.

"You fly, I'll buy," Hale continued.

"Fine," Dyson sighed, standing as he shouldered on his jacket and picked up his keys. Hale's money in hand, Dyson left the station.

* * *

When Dyson returned, Hale wasn't at his desk, so he dropped the food on top of a stack of papers and pulled out his chair. He was met with a stuffed wolf, it was soft and floppy, dark gray with a ribbon around its neck. 'Dyson' it read. The man swallowed a growl. Hale was a dead man.

"That's cute," the dead man in question smirked. "I suppose you are becoming rather…cuddly."

Dyson whirled on his partner, the stuffed animal still sitting in his chair. "Run, run now, and maybe you have a chance."

Hale took a step back. Okay, he may have made a slight oversight.

* * *

_As soon as Dyson left the squad room, Hale picked up his phone and dialed his sister. "Val," he asked as she picked up, "I need you to do me a favor."_

"_Why would I do you a favor," Val asked dryly. "The last time I did a favor for you, I ended up breaking several nails and ruining a pair of jeans."_

"_Hey," Hale defended himself, "you were the one who agreed to help me break into that crypt."_

"_I thought it was a hypothetical," Val scoffed._

"_It is _never_ a hypothetical," Hale argued. _

"_You said it was!"_

"_I lie," Hale admitted. "Now, are you going to help me or not?"_

"_What do I have to do," Val sighed heavily._

_Hale smirked, his tongue tucked between his teeth. "All you have to do is pick up a package from the toy store and bring it here."_

"_Do I want to know," Val asked lightly._

"_Nope," Hale told her, "just hurry."_

* * *

Dyson sat down at his desk, the stuffed wolf clutched between his large hands. It was rather cuddly, but he, was certainly not. It was a ridiculous thought. A thought and a prank that Hale would most certainly pay for. Dyson did know a few fae who could put him in his place. Maybe the Mercury Triplets, they were always up for a little shock and awe.

A phone call later and Dyson was feeling a little vindicated. Hale had been acting a little nosy lately, and it was about time his nose got whacked like a naughty puppy. It was only natural.

The soft toy that had set the wolf off was tucked in a drawer, and Dyson had to resist the urge to lift it out of the dark and stare at it. He shouldn't have an odd fascination with it. It was a toy after all, a child's toy. Something he should have absolutely no interest in. Except he did. And it was beginning to drive him to distraction.

Was he going soft? No, he was still the big bad wolf, pardon the cliché. He still lived up to his reputation, he was a legend. He hadn't gone soft. It was an entirely stupid idea. Entirely. The pencil he had been using snapped.

"Coffee," the receptionist asked as she perched on the edge of his desk.

Dyson glanced up, "I really shouldn't."

"Oh? Would you like something else, Detective," she asked, breasts pushed up and out. Dyson frowned, Hale had really picked a winner. A winner who was almost as much of a man-whore as he was. It was a little ridiculous to be honest. Hale was way too easy to please.

Shaking his head, Dyson leaned back, "I'm almost done for the day, thanks though."

"Well," she smiled, "if there is anything you ever need, I'm sure you know how to find me."

"Uh-huh," Dyson dismissed her.

After the cloud of perfume had dissipated, Hale returned, "She gone?"

"Yep," Dyson told him.

"She's a bloodhound man, she is _still_ sniffing after me," Hale shuddered dramatically. "I can't do it man, she's insane! Everywhere I turn she's there, trying to get in my slacks."

"Oh," Dyson bit his cheek to keep the smile from slipping out. "So was that you hiding in the maintenance closet?"

"She was following me," Hale defended.

"Right," Dyson nodded, "well she just told me that she was pretty sure you were in love with her and that you were _the_ one, even hinted that there was an engagement on the horizon."

"Oh my god," Hale paled. "You've got to help me, she is crazy!"

Standing, Dyson gathered his things, tucking the plush wolf beneath his jacket. "This is why you should never date a girl in the office pool."

Hale could only gape as Dyson retreated from the station, punching out for the day.

* * *

Coasting down the snowy roads, Dyson watched the few people out scurry about. With a laugh, he pulled steered himself towards the curb, driving slowly, passenger window down. The familiar form waked with purpose down the sidewalk, body folded in on itself.

A quick glance over the shoulder and the figure walked a little faster, impossibly steady in tiny heels on icy ground. Dyson continued following her.

A slender hand rose into the air, middle finger extended, "Go home, Perv!"

Dyson chuckled to himself and kept following her. At long last she spun on him, marching over to his car, "I'm not a prostitute, or a street walker, or even a lady of the night, so go home and beat it," Kenzi yelled, stooping down to glare at the John, only to come face to face with Dyson.

He raised an eyebrow, leaning towards her, "Come on, I'll buy you dinner first."

Kenzi rolled her eyes, flipping him off again, "Aren't you the gentleman."

"I really am," Dyson grinned charmingly, "get in."

With a sigh, Kenzi opened the door and slid into his car, "Thanks."

"So, does that happen often," Dyson asked tightly.

"More than is healthy for society," Kenzi answered ambiguously. "So where are you headed?"

"Trick's," Dyson told her.

"Me too," Kenzi told him.

He frowned, "Where were you coming from?"

"Visiting a friend," Kenzi answered easily. "I haven't seen him as much as I want to so I thought I would drop by this afternoon."

"Oh," Dyson asked, as Kenzi settled into the seat, reaching behind her to buckle in.

"Aww," she cooed and Dyson swore. She had caught sight of the fluffy wolf. She reached into the backseat, twisting in her seat to reach the toy. He clenched his jaw, thankful that he had torn the stupid nametag off. Righted in her seat, Kenzi stroked the wolf's ears, smiling and silently cooing. "So who is this little guy?"

There were very, very few explanations for this sort of scenario. Mentioning Hale would lead to questions and mocking, shrugging it off would only pique her curiosity, so charming him was the only possible choice. With a quicksilver smile, Dyson reached over and stroked the plush wolf's head, "I thought you could use someone to keep you company at night."

In an instant, Kenzi was strangling the life out of the little toy, crushing it to her chest and neck. "Dyson," Kenzi sighed before leaning over and pecking him on his cheek. "You're the best."

Dyson breathed a sigh of relief, "So what are you going to name him?"

Kenzi peered at the soft wolf for a moment, Dyson glancing at her from the corner of his eye while he steered down the streets toward the Dal. "Zeus," Kenzi announced after what seemed like a fortnight.

"A good strong name for a protector," Dyson praised.

"He's no Dyson though," Kenzi pointed out sweetly.

Dyson chuckled and wrapped one arm around Kenzi rubbing her shoulder lightly.

* * *

Zeus had been left in the car for the moment. Dyson had argued that Trick didn't let animals into the Dal. Kenzi had told him to look in a mirror. Dyson had responded by pointing out he had a reputation to maintain. Kenzi had called him a cuddly wolf underneath the big bad exterior. Zeus had been tucked in the passenger seat while Dyson took over 'guard' duty.

"Cheese fries," Kenzi moaned as she rolled her fry in order to retain as much cheese as possible. "I think I could die happy here."

Dyson smiled, "You're a little fickle, you know that?"

"Am not," Kenzi stuck her tongue out.

"Just yesterday you were ready to live at my apartment, now you're ready to stuff yourself here," Dyson pointed out. "It makes me feel a little cheap."

Kenzi lowered her head, lashes brushing her cheeks sluggishly, "I just love food."

"I know," he grinned. "It's part of your charm."

"I have charm," Kenzi asked with a laugh.

"A whole butt-load," Dyson responded with a laugh and a tap on her rear which made Kenzi jump on her barstool.

* * *

_"Revolution! The people howls and cries, Freedom, that's what we're needing! We've needed it for centuries, our arteries are bleeding. The stage is shaking, the audience rock. The whole thing is over by nine o'clock."_

_-Kurt Tucholsky_

* * *

A/N: 9/25. The next few days may be a struggle, chapters might be a bit shorter. It is crunch time with papers to grade, scholastic bowl practices and tournaments, and lots of annoying nonsense. Hope you all are having a nice day. Lots of love.


	10. A Blanket & A Pizza

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_10 December, 2013_

Cuddled beneath a blanket and several quilts lay Kenzi and Zeus, and just as his namesake, Zeus was keeping guard like only a wolf could. It was Tuesday. It was a Tuesday in December, it was cold and wet, and Kenzi was pretty sure that if she were to get out of bed she would either freeze to the floor, or she would get frostbite. Neither options were pleasurable, so Kenzi remained in bed. She had her music going, a book tucked beside her, and Zeus. She was set for at least a few more hours.

Bo had made other arrangements for the day. Arrangements of the warm body variety. She had slipped out an hour ago, reminding Kenzi not to wait up for her. Kenzi wasn't going to anyway, at least not if she wanted to live. It was too darn cold in the Clubhouse to do anything. Kenzi was actually thinking about finding the phonebook and calling a heating guy…and doing him. Warm bodies were hard to come by, but she really needed a hot body.

She would too, if it weren't for the fact that the phonebook was propping up the fridge in the kitchen, and when Kenzi was cold she had zero game. It was comparable to Trick trying to score on a nubile fae-babe.

Digging under the covers with a sigh, Kenzi flicked through her contacts and hit call. She waited patiently for the call to go through.

"Kenzi," Dyson picked up almost immediately. "Are you okay?"

Kenzi frowned, "Why would that be your first question?"

She could practically see the wolf-man shrug, "I worry."

"Well if you really do," Kenzi smiled into her phone, cuddling closer to Zeus, "can you text me the number of a heating guy."

"You don't have a properly working heater," Dyson reminded her.

Kenzi adjusted her head on her pillow, "I know. I was just going to jump the guy when he showed up."

"Kenz," Dyson nearly barked. "You are not going to 'jump' the heating guy."

"Come on," Kenzi whimpered pityingly, "I'm frozen. I might die of hypothermia. And then what? Anything could happen, the apocalypse could start."

Dyson frowned, "Are you trying to tell me that your death will start the apocalypse?"

"Maybe," Kenzi offered.

"Right," Dyson shook his head.

Kenzi sighed, petting Zeus, "Come on, what are you doing that is so important you can't give me the number of a heating guy?"

"Apparently I'm skipping the rest of my workout and bringing you an electric blanket," Dyson sighed.

"Fine," Kenzi grumbled. "Deny me sexy man-cake. You're such a spoilsport." Dyson didn't respond, he did however hang up, much to Kenzi's annoyance, "How rude."

* * *

An hour later, Kenzi had tossed her book at the wall and resorted to kicking her feet against her sheets in order to create a little friction based heat. She paused when she heard a thunk from the front door. Her eyes opened and she slid her hand further under her pillow, reaching for throwing stars.

"Whoever is out there, I'm armed and I pepper spray," Kenzi screamed.

There was no response as she heard the front door pop open, letting a gust of extra chilly air into the ramshackle home.

Soft footsteps moved closer to her room, Kenzi grimaced, she shouldn't have called out. That was how the hot chick always got killed. Gripping her weapons a little tighter and shrinking down a little further, Kenzi waited, Zeus clutched to her chest.

Her door swung open, "Kenz?"

Kenzi's heart skipped a beat and her half cocked arm relaxed, slipping the stars away, "Dyson?"

"I came bearing gifts," he smiled, waving a pizza in one hand and a big blanket in the other.

"I thought you were kidding," She shoved herself into more of a sitting position, "don't you have something better to do today? I know Bo and Tamsin were going to have lunch at the Dal."

"I was invited," Dyson informed her, setting the pizza on her dresser and moving about her room to plug in the electric blanket. "I thought that preventing the fragile little human from freezing to death might be a better plan."

Kenzi's eyes narrowed darkly, "You are so lucky I already hurled my book across the room."

Dyson chuckled and tossed the blanket into the air, letting it fall to drape over Kenzi and her bed. She smiled brightly. He returned the grin and stepped closer, "So are you going to invite me to join you?"

Kenzi's narrowed eyes went wide, "I think my ears just fell off."

"Come on," Dyson coaxed, taking another step closer, "you want a hot body, I'm willing to provide."

Her eyes went just a little wider, "Okay?"

In easy, practiced, moves, Dyson shucked his shoes, his jacket slid under the covers. Kenzi instantaneously felt a little warmer. Dyson radiated heat. Shuffling back in her covers, Kenzi brought Zeus up a little closer to her chin, his head poking out from under the covers.

Dyson stared at the little Russian, "Two wolves in your bed?"

Kenzi shrugged, "It's not my fault I'm wolf-bait."

Dyson chuckled and grabbed the pizza off the dresser, "Lunch?"

"Tell me that has artichoke in it," Kenzi nearly panted, leaning towards Dyson, anxious for lunch.

"Kenz," the detective smiled, "I know you better than that, artichoke and extra cheese and olives."

"Mm," Kenzi salivated lightly, flicking the box lid open and grabbing a slice of pizza. Dyson watched her wolf down the first three pieces, slowly color and light returned to her skin and eyes.

"Good," he asked, already knowing the answer he would receive.

She nodded eagerly and reached for a fourth piece. "I love food," she mumbled happily around a bite of cheese and artichoke."

Picking up a slice of his own, Dyson carefully ate one eye always on Kenzi. Together they easily finished the pizza, Dyson rumbling with pride and happiness. He had always liked a woman who could match him bite for bite. Kenzi was voracious, vivacious. She put a hundred percent of herself into everything she did. There was no half-assed for her, despite what she might say.

* * *

With the empty pizza box tossed to the floor and hands clean again, Dyson and Kenzi lay in bed, toasty warm. Facing each other and playing footsy, Kenzi couldn't help but smile.

"This is nice."

Dyson grunted his approval, reaching across the short gap between them and dragging Kenzi closer. "Nap time."

Kenzi yawned thickly, though she tried to hide it with one dainty hand. "But I'm bored," she tried to argue.

Inching closer, Dyson tucked her head under his chin, pulling her to rest partially on his chest, "Napping will solve boredom."

"No it won't," Kenzi argued.

Dyson shifted lower in the bed, dragging Kenzi even closer, she was nearly on top of him now. "It won't if you don't try," he muttered quietly.

"What if you snore," she asked.

"I'll stay awake until you're asleep," Dyson offered.

Kenzi pouted, "What if I snore?"

"You don't," he told her flatly.

"How do you know?"

"I have very good hearing," Dyson laughed softly. "Now close your eyes."

Kenzi huffed but she closed her eyes and snuggled against Dyson, her hands wrapping unconsciously in his t-shirt. He smiled against her hair, inhaling her earthy vanilla scent. This was the best of life, good food, good company, and good naps.

Settling down on top of a very well tone man was two very important things: it was was comfy and distracting. The first was a benefit. The second was a…well, distraction. Kenzi was having the worst fits in her hands. Her fingers kept spasming, wanting to dig into firm, toned muscle. Curling close to Dyson, Kenzi focused on her breathing. If you can't join 'em, beat 'em.

* * *

It was Kenzi who woke first, she frowned when all she felt beneat her cheek was pillow. She had quite clearly remembered falling asleep pillowed on Dyson's chest. Which begged the question where did her wolf-shaped pillow go, and why was there a warm breeze drifting across her breasts. Forcing her eyes open, Kenzi glanced down to find Dyson's head cuddled against her chest, the crown of his head resting in the crook of her neck.

Kenzi almost cooed at the adorableness, and then she found her breath forcibly exhaled as a very firm knee rose between her legs. She gulped helplessly as Dyson snuggled closer, arms tightening, and hands clenching where she was almost certain that Dyson wasn't aware of, mainly, her fine behind. His hulking, at least compared to her, form pulled and pushed her against him. Eyes frantically wide, Kenzi tried to wriggle free.

The knee rose again, Kenzi gasped, inadvertently pressing her chest into Dyson's face. He didn't appear to notice or mind as he inhaled deeply and nuzzled his scruffy cheek against her delicate skin.

"Okay," Kenzi breathed, at least trying to wrest her arms free. "Nice wolfy," she muttered, praying he didn't hold on any tighter. This had to be the most awkward cuddle session ever. Twisting her hips, Kenzi froze once again, she was pretty sure Dyson didn't have his gun in his pocket. It had just gone from awkward to 'oh-god-he's-probably-dreaming-about-boning-my-bestie'.

Awkward _so_ didn't cover it. This is why Kenzi didn't like cuddling with friends. It was weird, and it always had the potential to get weirder.

Dyson growled lightly in his sleep, Kenzi almost expected his foot to jerk. "Kenz," he mumbled mouth turning to press against the flesh of her breasts.

"Doggy say what," Kenzi froze. He had just said her name, except it probably wasn't in _that_ way. It was probably more of a 'stop-fucking-moving'.

"Kenzi," Dyson repeated.

"Dyson," she spoke, half trying to wake him, half hoping he wouldn't wake up and make this _more_ awkward.

Dyson didn't respond, his lips dragged across her chest, and his hands squeezed a little tighter, making Kenzi jump forward, her pelvis coming into contact with the not-gun. "Oh jeezus," Kenzi panted.

Eyes skyward, and keeping as still as possible, Kenzi waited as patiently as she could for Dyson to wake up. When he did, it was with a jaw cracking yawn and another nuzzle at his pillow. When Dyson relaxed slowly, Kenzi took her chance and went limp, falling away from him. Dyson's head rolled up to look at her, a boyish grin playing at his mouth, eyes bright with sleep.

"So," Kenzi broke the silence. "You're a cuddler?"

Dyson shrugged, his grip tightening a little though his hands had slipped from her butt. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really," Kenzi arched a fine brow, "you were acting like a dog with a chew toy."

"I bit you," Dyson asked innocently, baring his canines in a sharp grin.

"Shut up," Kenzi squirmed, "you know what I meant!"

Dyson didn't respond, he just rolled Kenzi so she was beneath him and partially covered her with his weight. He was fighting the desire to tilt her head back and cover her impertinent lips with his. Teach her exactly who wasn't cuddly, although, he had a sneaking suspicion that wouldn't prove his point. Instead, he shifted on top of her, nestling against her softness, covering her in his scent.

"How are your toes," he asked after a few moments of silence aside from their breathing.

He felt her legs shift slightly, "Fine, nice and toasty."

"Mission accomplished," Dyson told her with a smirk.

"You are such a cave-man sometimes," Kenzi scoffed.

Dyson laughed, whole body shaking with mirth, "Wolf-man, Kenz, wolf-man."

"Whatever," she dismissed his correction, "I'm just surprised you didn't hit me over the back of the head and take me back to your cave to protect me from the cold."

"Fire good," Dyson grunted with a chuckle.

"Cave-man," Kenzi repeated, the awkwardness fading fast.

Dyson tucked his arms around Kenzi's back, fingertips brushing against her hips, "I'll always take care of you, Kenzi. No matter what."

Kenzi's body relaxed into Dyson, "I know."

* * *

"_Life is like a ten speed bicycle. Most of us have gears we never use."__  
__-Charles M. Schulz__  
_

* * *

A/N: 10/25. That moment in life where guys are _way_ cuddlier than girls. We are often painted as the clingy one sin life, but I think it goes both way. So this was a clingy, cuddly Dyson, and a pretty shameless one that that. Well that's another one down, thank you for all the lovely reviews, they really perk me up in the morning. Night all!


	11. A Whistle

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_11 December, 2013_

Bo and Tamsin had simply had enough of Kenzi's indoors party. They had decided it was time to 'slut-up and step-out'. After a quick spiritual cleansing, Kenzi had returned to the Clubhouse with Chinese for dinner and been forced into a chair, Tamsin straddling her to keep her in place.

"Hello," she asked hesitantly, "you want to let me up?" Tamsin smirked, rolling her hips against Kenzi, "Hello lap dance!"

"It's nice to see you too," Tamsin's raspy voice purred.

Bo leaned over Tamsin's shoulders, pressing the blonde down onto Kenzi. "This is like the start to some weird porno."

"Aw," Kenzi smiled, "you think I'm good enough to be in a porno!"

Tamsin leaned forward, "Isn't that weird?"

"With the things I've heard in the last month, no," Kenzi answered dryly. "Now, are you going to start something or are you ready to get off."

"Oh I'm going to get off," Tamsin chuckled, leaning even closer to Kenzi, licking the shell of her ear.

"O-kay," Kenzi pulled back. "As much as I love you, Tam-Tam, and I _do_, I drive stick."

"Speaking of stick," Bo smirked, not letting up on Tamsin and Kenzi, "was that a wolf I saw skulking about yesterday?"

"No," Kenzi denied. "And if it was, I didn't notice."

Bo walked around the chair, draping her arms around Kenzi, resting her head on Kenzi's shoulder, "I know you guys are friends. And I get that just because I'm not all friendly and happy with him, I can't expect you to stop hanging out with him. So you don't have to hide it. Kay?"

Kenzi released a breath, "Okay. Now can we please stop this Kenzi sandwich before somebody walks in and starts filming?"

Tamsin patted Kenzi's cheek as she spoke, "It would probably be Trick, he always seemed a little _freaky_ to me."

Bo's face crinkled in disgust, "That's my grandfather!"

"_Freaky_," Tamsin reiterated.

"I hate to be a record that's skipping," Kenzi interrupted, "But do you two want to let me go?"

"Hm," Tamsin purred, stroking Kenzi's cheek, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Nope. I think we're going to keep you just like this."

"And _freaky_," Kenzi mocked easily.

Bo smiled brightly and squeezed Kenzi's shoulder, "Guess what! We're going out!"

"We're going to slut-up and step-out," Tamsin stated proudly. "First step, slutting you up!"

Kenzi's mouth dropped open, "How about we don't make the fragile human a walking talking sex-doll."

"Let's do," Bo smirked. "Come on, Kenz, it's about time you got some. It has been way too long, and it _is_ girl's night."

Sighing, Kenzi shrugged, "Fine, but all my lady-bits _will_ be covered!"

"In sperm," Tamsin singsonged.

"You have a problem," Kenzi told the blonde.

Tamsin tilted her head to the side, "My only _problem_, is that you're still in clothes."

Kenzi sighed before jumping as Tamsin's nimble fingers set to work on Kenzi's corset. "You need a hobby," the trapped human glared at Tamsin, shrinking back from the quick fingers.

"I have a hobby," Tamsin told her. "It's getting laid, Bo, go get my black dress!"

"The cut out," Bo asked shortly, watching with a smile as Tamsin loosed the corset and wrestled it out from around Kenzi.

"Do you even have to ask," Tamsin smiled sweetly, tongue flicking out to wet her lips.

The scene that followed was very much the teenage boy's dream of what girls did together. Kenzi was stripped, tossed into the shower, forced to bathe before being made up to perfection all in the near nude. Some clever bargaining had allowed Kenzi the right to wear panties, albeit they were more see through black lace than anything. The bra was little better, it was a little scrap of lace that barely covered her nip, her precious nips that were certainly not going to do well in the frigid air.

When her make-up was 'perfect' according to Bo, and Kenzi's hair had been slicked back into a sleek ponytail, black hair trailing down her ivory skin, Kenzi was 'helped' into the dress. There had been hands sliding and tucking, Tamsin taking every moment to make Kenzi jump and squirm. The dress itself was as dark as Kenzi's hair. It was sleeveless, though the fabric covered her neck and collarbone. It, however, left an arch of skin that slid into a low sweetheart neckline. The fabric clung to Kenzi's torso, flaring out into a skirt at the smallest part of her waist, the skirt dropping only three inches down her thighs.

Turning slowly to view herself in Bo's full-length mirror, Kenzi had to admit that Bo and Tamsin did good work. If she did say so herself, Kenzi thought she looked downright bangable.

Tamsin's arms twined around her waist, "Not bad, for a human," Tamsin licked her lips.

Kenzi shrugged, "And you're not so bad for an oversexed harpy."

"Valkyrie," Tamsin corrected lightly, "now, fuck me pumps, or fuck me boots?"

"Can't I just wear the first pair I trip on," Kenzi asked weakly. She had put up with this whole thing for a little bit too long, and she was ready to go out, get drunk, and take off her clothes.

Bo, sensing her best friend's rising level of annoyance, handed her a pair of black suede booties with a nice bow on the front. "Put them on and let's go."

* * *

If it hadn't been for the pre-gaming Tamsin had forced Kenzi into during their walk to the Dal, Kenzi might have frozen. As it was, Kenzi's whole body was covered in goose bumps, and Tamsin and Bo had both pointed out that her nipples looked perky. As Tamsin and Bo both drank from the same water bottle, Kenzi fell back and whipped her phone out.

_S.O.S. I've been held hostage, headed to the Dal, then being dragged out._

She sent the message to Dyson and slipped her phone back into the cleavage of her dress, it was starting to look like it would be a very, very, long night out. Dyson didn't respond to her text, and so she kept following the two vodka-filled Fae. It was actually a little ironic that the Russian who grew up on vodka wasn't the one practically drooling over the stuff.

When Bo finally pushed the door of the Dal open, Kenzi trembled in delight, the warmth and the noise pouring over here in waves. Refraining from pushing past Bo and Tamsin, Kenzi bounced from foot to foot, waiting to be admitted to the building. The Dal was packed. Kenzi had to walk through a veritable herd of fae, all shapes, sizes, scents, and varieties. Tamsin's earlier wandering hands seemed purely innocent in comparison to some of the not-so fleeting touches Kenzi encountered as she slipped through the crowd, headed for the bar.

At last, Kenzi managed to jump up on a free barstool. She leaned forward, smiling at Trick, "Hey Trickster, what's with the jam?"

Trick sighed, reaching for a glass, "Septimontium, used to be a huge festival, now most people just use it as an excuse to party and drink."

Kenzi set her hand on the glass that trick placed before her, the universal signal that she was fine, "Sounds busy."

"Are you okay," Trick asked, face scrunching in confusion.

Kenzi nodded, "Bo-Bo and Tamsin are dragging me out on the town, and I want to be alive tomorrow."

"Ah," Trick nodded sagely, "well I wish you the best."

He wandered down the bar, leaving Kenzi alone in a sea of probable predators. It wasn't surprising that she jumped and squeaked when a hand landed on her shoulder.

"Relax," Dyson's warm voice whispered in her ear. "So, all dolled up and out on the town?"

"By hook or by crook," Kenzi agree, twisting so that her back was against the bar and she was looking up at Dyson.

Dyson gazed down at Kenzi, struggling to keep his eyes on hers. Inevitably his would drift down and be met with a gracious amount of milky white cleavage. "Well at least you look gorgeous."

Kenzi smiled, tipping her head back a little further, "Well I didn't really have a choice."

"Oh."

"I was attacked," Kenzi informed the detective, "Tamsin held me down and stripped me, and then they dressed me like I was doll."

Dyson's eyes widened, "Maybe living with Bo is a dangerous thing to do."

"I'm starting to agree with you," Kenzi sighed.

"Well, you know where I live, and how to get in, so my home is always open to you," Dyson reached around her to grab a beer.

Kenzi smirked cheekily, "Let's be honest, no lock was ever going to stop me from getting to where I want to be."

"I can certainly believe that," Dyson took a sip of his beer. "You always have a way of getting exactly what you want, Kenz."

"It's part of my charm."

"And speaking of your charm," Dyson set down his beer, "I got you a little something."

From his pocket, Dyson brought out a small whistle, Kenzi took it from his fingers, frowning in confusion.

"It's a rape whistle," Dyson told her, "just in case people can't keep their hands off the _Kenz_."

Kenzi laughed, it was a stupid present, but it was sweet in a way, "the _Kenz_ appreciates it."

Dyson watched her twirl the whistle around her finger. He had been on the way home from work when he got Kenzi's text. He had laughed heartily when he read her plea for help, and then he had stopped and picked up a dog whistle. He wasn't going to tell Kenzi that, she would make some crack or she would tell Hale who would make a few _hundred_ cracks. Most likely themed around the fact that Dyson would 'come when called'. It wasn't really his fault that he had a heightened sense of hearing, or that he worried excessively about Kenzi's health and well-being, and he would probably be following her tonight. He glanced down at her cleavage, make that definitely following her.

"Kenz," Tamsin yelled across the bar from atop a table, "we're out!"

Kenzi hopped off the stool, her body pressing flush against Dyson's, "Gotta jet."

"Kenz," Dyson dragged her into a quick hug, "Be careful, and call me?"

Kenzi nodded, returning the hug, "I will, I might need a rescue."

"I'll come running, siren and all," Dyson called after her as she headed after a literally, table-hopping Tamsin.

* * *

Two drinks, two clubs, and two 'dances' later, and Kenzi was doing something she would probably regret in the morning: dancing on _top_ of the bar. Bo and Tamsin were on either side of her, all three of them shaking their asses and shimmying. Tamsin was really throwing herself into it, almost making props out of Kenzi and Bo in an attempt to writhe and earn just one more dollar.

Kenzi's cleavage was in fact, not really cleavage anymore. She, Bo, and Tamsin had started shoving the money they had 'earned' there. Rolling her hips, Kenzi dropped into a squat before doing a sliding roll to a standing position. Halfway up Bo slapped her ass, skirt fluttering up and letting the crowd get a glimpse of her not so present panties.

Kenzi was laughing and smiling, "I love our lives!"

"I love being single," Bo agreed, "It's awesome being free!"

"I'm just glad I don't have to be awake in the morning, jobs suck," Tamsin jumped down from the bar as the song ended, helping Kenzi down after her.

"To not having jobs and being hot single ladies on the prowl," Bo cheered, raising a bottle of tequila she had snatched from the counter.

"Whoo," Tamsin and Kenzi called.

* * *

Stumbling into the Dal in the late hours of the night, Kenzi was frozen and hot and funny all over. She was just in the mood to cuddle with someone. Bo and Tamsin had met up with a few honeys, and Kenzi, despite several offers, was done for the night, and didn't particularly want to entertain a drunk guy.

The Dal was almost empty, a few men and women still lingered, but most had gone off to celebrate in a more carnal nature. It was like there was something in the air.

She tripped over her feet once more, her frigid ankles combined with alcohol were not serving her well. An arm caught her, preventing a probable face plant, "You okay?"

"Fine, Dyson," Kenzi leaned against his arm. "Cold."

"Come on," Dyson stroked her hip gently before lifting her into his arms, "time to get you warmed up."

Kenzi smiled as she was tucked into Dyson's chest, "Did you see my money, and they liked my dancing."

Dyson resisted the urge to frown, he had actually lost them after the second bar, but the last time he had seen Kenzi, the top of her dress had been devoid of singles, fives, tens, and twenties. "Did you have fun," Dyson avoided the land mine.

"Yeah," she nodded, letting her body's aches begin to fade as Dyson's heat melted the chill that had set in.

* * *

_"I have never been able to take anything seriously after eleven o'clock in the morning."_

_-Noel Coward_

* * *

A/N: 11/25. Tomorrow's may be delayed a day at worst. It depends on what happens tomorrow during my downtime. But I likely won't be home from work until 9, and then I'll probably be too beat to write. So if you don't have an update tomorrow, there will be two on Friday. Hope you all enjoy my plot bunnies, and thanks for all the lovely reviews.


	12. A Set of Cookie Sheets

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_12 December, 2013_

Dyson hitched Kenzi a little higher on his back, his arm supporting her, her arms wrapped around his neck. She had refused his help, nearly fell on her face and murdered an orange cone before she allowed Dyson to give her a piggy-back ride. Once she was situated, Kenzi had proceeded to tell him to 'giddy-up'. Dyson had only been able to laugh and keep walking, ignoring her attempts to ride him, and sadly it wasn't in the way he really wanted her to.

Sliding his door open, Dyson stepped into his loft. Leaving the door open, he moved over to the kitchen island and sat Kenzi on it. Once he was sure she would be 'safe' for the moment, he moved to close the door, shedding his jacket and shoes. When he turned back, he was met with a very familiar sight.

Kenzi was writhing in the middle of the island. She was humming to herself and dancing lying down. Her hips swiveling and swaying her legs sliding against each other, arms stretched above her head as she rocked her head back and forth.

Dyson moved closer so he could watch her, "Kenz."

"Mm," she murmured, "D-man, you're table is really comfy."

"Is it," Dyson asked, hand ghosting along her leg.

"Totally," Kenzi purred, "you should join me!"

He tightened his grip on Kenzi, "Should I?"

Kenzi smiled at his husky voice, "Mhm."

"Why should I," Dyson asked, tugging her a little closer. She slid across the surface of the counter, giggling as her skirt began to ride up a little.

"Because," Kenzi smiled up at Dyson, "I'm lonely."

Dyson grabbed her arm and pulled her into a sitting position, arm curled around her waist to keep her that way. With a smirk, he began to pluck the money from her cleavage, letting it drop onto the floor. Kenzi giggled softly. Dyson locked gazes with the young Russian, letting his knuckles dragging gently across her pale flesh, her skin burned at the touch.

When each piece of currency was gone, Kenzi arched back and slid back onto the counter. "Dyson," Kenzi breathed heavily. "Is it wrong that we hang out so much?"

"No," Dyson rushed out. "No."

"Promise," she asked, her eyes becoming glossy, "I really, _really_ like you. And it would suck if we had to stop being friends."

"Team Dyson," Dyson reminded her, "All the way."

Kenzi sighed, quirking her head to the side, "But you and Bo-Bo aren't Byson anymore..."

Dyson sighed, he had dreaded this moment. It was inevitable if he wanted to be with Kenzi, but it was going to be rough. "Kenz, I need you to listen to me. I care for Bo, but I don't…_love_ her."

"What," Kenzi exhaled in shock, "but you're Bo and Dyson, you've got the major chemistry."

"Kenz," Dyson pulled her back up, framing her face with his hands, "please understand, that while I _care_ for Bo, we are friends now, and that is all we will ever be."

Kenzi frowned, her nose crinkling adorably, "I don't get it. You have your love back, and you're D-man, the Dyson again."

"Oh Sweetheart," Dyson sighed, bringing her into a hug, "When you gave me my love back, I realized _so_ much. I couldn't hide from the truth any longer. Bo and I were using each other, I got confused, I wanted to love her, but I didn't and I don't."

"So it's my fault," Kenzi's eyes welled up.

"No," Dyson stroked her back firmly, "this has nothing to do with you." He lied. It had _everything_ to do with Kenzi. She had always been his reason, the reason he had hung around Bo so much, had become more proactive on the scene again. If he were to tell her that, the tears would fall and she wasn't ready to hear everything. Not now, not when she should be snuggled in bed.

Kenzi sniffled softly, "Does that mean you're going to start dating some bimbo now?"

"No," Dyson wiped away the start of a tear, "I promise I won't date any bimbos."

"Or evil chicks," Kenzi continued.

"Or evil chicks," Dyson repeated.

"Okay," Kenzi swallowed a hiccup-sob, "I just…I just miss you."

Dyson kissed her forehead, warm lips lingering before retreating a fraction of an inch, "I'm right here."

"I know," Kenzi wrapped her arms around Dyson, leaning her cheek against his chest. "I shouldn't miss you so much."

Dyson lifted Kenzi off the counter, her legs wrapping around his waist, "Time for bed, Kenz."

She held him tighter as he walked towards the couch, "Will you cuddle with me?"

He didn't answer for a moment, she sighed in resignation, "Okay."

"Thanks, Dyson," she whispered.

* * *

Some fancy maneuvering had Kenzi out of her dress and into one of Dyson's t-shirts. There had been a great deal of soft giggles, wandering hands, and scooting. Dyson was nothing if not resourceful, however, so it was more than feasible in the end to preserve Kenzi's modesty and prevent any other odd questions to arise.

The t-shirt, however, wasn't exactly a great cover-up. It was a white t-shirt, soft and worn, and it had a tendency to be less than opaque. As Dyson set up the couch with blankets, Kenzi was twisting on her now bare feet, her form silhouetted, the shirt becoming rather see-through as she danced before a lamp. Dyson watched her as he stripped out of his t-shirt before retreating to his room to swap his jeans for pajama pants. When he returned, Kenzi was pirouetting on the concrete floor, leg kicking up, flashing Dyson a nice view of some lacy panties.

As Kenzi spun, Dyson moved close enough that he could reach out and grasp her waist. When she slowed, her movements become longer and less frenzied, he did reach out, halting her motion, "Time for bed, Tiny Dancer."

Kenzi giggled and let Dyson tuck her into the made-up couch, putting her back against the back of the couch. "Did you just use an Elton John song?"

"Maybe," Dyson smirked, lowering himself down next to Kenzi as he turned the lamp out. "Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand, and now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand," Dyson sang softly, drawing Kenzi into his arms.

"I can't believe you know Elton John," Kenzi smiled in the dark, her bare legs tangling with his legs.

Dyson stroked a thumb down her side, "I'm a man of many mysteries."

"What else," Kenzi prodded, voice quiet in the dark.

Dyson thought for a moment, pressing Kenzi against his chest, "I enjoy pub quizzes, I still travel to my homeland, and I love this."

"This," Kenzi's brow wrinkled.

"The domestic part of life," Dyson clarified, "making breakfast together, watching movies, napping, pillow talk…"

"I thought that wolves weren't supposed to be domesticated," Kenzi snickered.

Dyson nuzzled her hair, "I'm hardly domesticated, and I'm just getting old."

"Uh-huh," Kenzi snorted, "ancient."

"Peaceful, it's peaceful," Dyson ignored her comment. "I think I always felt like I was missing this part of life."

"Well," Kenzi sighed, "I guess I'll be your cuddle-buddy if it will make you happy."

Kissing the top of her head, Dyson told her, "It would."

* * *

Dyson was warm, he was usually warm, but this was a warm weight. Kenzi was lying on top of him. His t-shirt had ridden up, her bare belly pressed against his. His hand had slipped up Kenzi's back, under the shirt and the back of her bra. Speaking of her bra, Dyson could feel the lace pattern against his chest, the t-shirt proving itself to be a poor barrier.

Smoothing down her hair, Dyson looked down at his little human, she was so fragile looking, but she was stronger than even he was. She would go to the ends of the earth for her friends. It was just who she was. There had been rumors about precisely what had happened to the Norn, Dyson had some theories, but Kenzi had never really spilled the full story. There was something about the violence with which she approached certain situations was terribly attractive. That Kenzi wielded a sword and kicked major butt made Dyson drool. He supposed it had to do with his instincts. He was instinctually attracted to powerful women, Kenzi was that, but she was also soft. She was kind and she cared with every bit of her, sacrificing her own safety, life, and independence for anyone she cared for. His instincts told him to claim her, protect her, and make sure she would never leave him.

It took several moments for Kenzi to rouse from her dreams, she shifted, Dyson freezing as she practically rubbed herself across him. If there were something to be said about Dyson, it would be that he had extraordinary restraint. He did, however have to get to work, so Dyson finally stroked her cheek gently, "Time to wake up."

And wake she did, pressing against him as she strained to lift her head, their lower bodies separated by a thin layer of cloth and nothing more.

"Hmm," Kenzi groaned, opening her mouth several times in an effort to rid herself of the cottony sensation that hung about. When her mouth was suitably moist, she blinked slowly, "Mm, morning."

"Good morning," Dyson said lowly.

"How did I get here," Kenzi asked slowly, head dropping back to Dyson's bare chest.

Dyson stroked her hair, "I brought you here, after you nearly face-planted in the Dal."

"Really," Kenzi scowled, "I blame the shoes."

"So you said last night," Dyson agreed simply. "It was rather adorable."

"I'm always adorable," Kenzi pouted, inhaling the scent of the man beneath her.

* * *

Kenzi stood in Dyson's kitchen, not _on_ the table, this time, but in front of it. Dyson had asked her a small favor. A favor Kenzi had agreed to, at least she had when Dyson had waived two new cookie sheets before her nose. Two new, nonstick, cookie sheets that were all hers…as long as she did him the favor.

So Kenzi stood in Dyson's kitchen, his pajama pants still warm from his use, on her legs, rolled up to keep her from tripping, and still in his shirt. With practiced movements, Kenzi set about making batter. The precinct was having a Holiday luncheon, and Dyson had drawn dessert from the hat.

Dyson didn't bake. It just wasn't something he was known to do. It was a ridiculous thought. _Kenzi_, however, was an excellent baker. Cook, not so much, but Dyson was more than capable of that. So Dyson had set about to persuade her into baking for him. It hadn't taken too much thought, a set of shiny new baking sheets would be encouragement enough. Her own baking sheets were less baking sheets anymore and more warped sheets of thick aluminum.

When he had presented the deal, Kenzi had, admittedly, practically jumped on him. He was actually forced to hold them out of her reach, which encouraged her to attempt to climb Mt. Dyson, which she wasn't half bad at.

* * *

Dyson glanced up from his desk when he heard the familiar click of Kenzi's heels against the tile. When he glanced up he was met with a very pretty sight. Kenzi in her dress and wearing one of his sweaters, belted with one of his belts. In her arms was a platter full of cookies.

He stood quickly and moved to meet her, "Hi, Kenz."

"Hey, D-man," Kenzi smiled brightly. "Lace cookies with chocolate on top."

Glancing down at the cookies Dyson nodded before leaning across and pressing his lips to her cheek, "They look almost as good as you."

"Charmer," Kenzi accused lightly.

"I try."

Dyson took the tray from her hands and set it on Hale's desk as Kenzi moved to sit in his chair. She crossed her legs, dress falling up her thighs, exposing a few inches more of creamy skin. Dyson bit back a throaty wolf of a growl as several of the other men whistled and cheered at Kenzi. She laughed in response, her green eyes never leaving Dyson's.

* * *

"_The wind plays up; snow flutters down. Twelve men are marching through the town."_

_-Alexander Blok_

* * *

A/N: Finished a good chunk of 12/25 last night. But when 11 rolled around I needed to hit the hay. Finished it today, during my lunch, and I'll be writing another when I get home from work. Thank you for being understanding the lateness. Both my JV teams won both of their rounds this afternoon so it was a pretty good match. Lots of love and thanks for all the feedback!


	13. A Salted Caramel Mocha & Flowers

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved) I also do not own the song, credit due to The Beatles.

* * *

_13 Friday, 2013_

Frowning at her reflection, Kenzi tugged at her hair, tucking stray pieces here and there, and pinning down the truly stubborn bits. Kenzi had a talent for dressing up, it came from being the odd kid out. She had learned early on how to blend in, and how to stand out. Horsing around with her male cousins had helped her learn to blend with the regular folks, and her grandmother had encouraged her to dance and comport herself as a lady. Those were the things that Kenzi had taken and built her many personas out of.

Hair braided and twisted back at the nape of her neck, Kenzi settled a small poinsettia flower off the side of the bundle of hair. It was nearly five, and Dyson had told her quite clearly he would be taking her to dinner before the party, so Kenzi was putting the final touches on her outfit. She was wrapped in a towel, the dress she had been saving for a special occasion or a special con was hanging from her closet door. Leaning forward, Kenzi applied a layer of mascara, sweeping it on quickly and smoothly. From there she added a quick cat-eye, a light layer of smoky gray eye-shadow, a soft pink lipstick, and a little blush to highlight her cheekbones.

"Kenzi, Dyson's here," Bo shouted through the clubhouse, "and I'm headed to Tamsin's."

"Okay, have fun, Bo," Kenzi called back.

She heard the door slam, and then there was a knock on her door. Rising, Kenzi retucked her towel, making doubly sure it was in place. Twisting the creaky knob, Kenzi opened the door to find Dyson with flowers and coffee cup with a straw stuck in it. With a exhale of a laugh, Kenzi took the extended flowers and then the cup.

"You look lovely," Dyson told her, he himself dressed in slacks and a deep navy dress shirt, the collar unbuttoned to expose tanned skin.

Kenzi quirked a fine brow, "I'm not dressed."

"Oh," Dyson smiled, his mouth twisting upwards, "I am quite aware of that fact."

Bending slightly, Dyson planted a quick kiss on her cheek before straightening. "Scamp," Kenzi scolded him. "And for that comment, I'm going to make you wait while I finish getting ready."

Dyson's mouth dropped a little, the smile eradicated as Kenzi stepped back and kicked the door shut with a quick wink.

"You could just go like that," Dyson informed her through the door. "I'm certain there wouldn't be a single complaint."

"Yeah," Kenzi returned as she dropped the towel, "I'm sure that going to a precinct party in a towel wouldn't get me tossed in a cell for public indecency."

"I had to give it a try," Dyson shrugged, leaning against the door.

Setting her flowers on the dresser top, she took a sip of the hot beverage. She giggled as she tasted the salt, the caramel, and the chocolate. If that wasn't enough, the straw, she noticed was heart shaped. It was very cute. It didn't take her long to suck the last of the sweet and salty drink.

Kenzi slipped into her dress, it fit her smoothly, fitting each and every curve, clinging to her bare skin. The white fabric rested a scant two inches above her knees, and her curves were silhouetted by an intricate black lace pattern. Her toes were slipped into a pair of delicate black lace stilettos. With one final brush down, Kenzi twisted her head to check her appearance in the mirror, her neck stretched gracefully.

In short, quiet, steps, Kenzi moved across her room, picking up her black clutch and opening the door. She smiled as she saw Dyson perched on the back of the couch, "Well?"

His head twisted to catch her. He smiled as he stood, "Beautiful."

Kenzi felt her cheeks heat slightly, "You're not so bad yourself."

"I do try to impress on a first date," Dyson told Kenzi, coming face to face with her.

The hint of a blush became a full blown fire in her face, "Date!"

"Yes," Dyson confirmed. "I think that it is far past time that I asked you on a real date."

"A real date," Kenzi frowned, her face marred only slightly by her confused expression.

Dyson nodded, "Yes. It has been a long time coming. I'm tired of playing coy. I like you Kenzi, more than I've ever liked anyone in my life, and that's a very long time."

The woman in question could only blink slowly.

Dyson reached for her, cupping her shoulders gently, "I want this, Kenzi. _I_ want _you_."

Each breath rattled in her lungs, her heart beating roughly against her ribcage. "I…I," words failed her, so Kenzi simply stepped forward, slipping her hand at the nape of his neck and pulling him down so she could press her lips against his.

It was a simple kiss, lips pressed to lips, heat spreading across the tenuous connection. Kenzi's eyes fluttered closed and she let Dyson drag her closer, his arms wrapped around her, pulling and pressing her against him. When at last they parted, Kenzi was starry eyed, gazing up at Dyson, words still not flowing.

"Is that a yes," Dyson asked, not ready to relinquish his hold on her.

A nod was all he got as an answer. She was blushing, her cheeks rosy like she had been in the cold too long. He smiled, and because he smiled, she smiled, it was catching really. All the tension of the last few weeks draining out of her, leaving her light headed and light hearted.

"So where are you taking me for dinner," Kenzi asked.

Dyson stepped back, releasing Kenzi at last, "It's a surprise. Coat first, and then we'll go."

"Meanie," Kenzi pouted, as she picked her coat up off the armchair.

It was just a simple black peacoat. Dyson helped her slide into it, and took the liberty of buttoning it up from bottom to top. When finished, Dyson extended his right arm to Kenzi so he might escort her. With a smile and swirl of her coat, Kenzi slid her arm around his and they set out with a jaunt in their steps.

* * *

The restaurant was tucked away down a dark lane, a speakeasy turned restaurant. It was very intimate and rustic. They were tucked into a corner at a little table, a candle melting on its wine bottle holder.

"How is your surprise," Dyson asked, watching the candlelight flicker over Kenzi's face.

She smiled, "Delicious." Her statement was of course followed by her tongue dragging across her lower lip, catching any stray juice from her filet.

"Good," Dyson sat back in his chair, content, for the moment just to watch Kenzi enjoy herself.

"How long," she asked suddenly, fork left to rest against her plate.

"How long what," Dyson asked.

Kenzi sighed, "How long has 'this' been coming."

"Almost since the first time we met," Dyson spoke as honestly as he could. "I didn't know how deeply I cared for you, but I certainly felt something from that moment."

"Really, but I had just snuck into a sacred ceremony," Kenzi reminded him.

"Well," Dyson smiled, "Maybe I got a few glimpses before that, the video, your scent in the elevator, the store, the street."

"Huh," Kenzi mimicked Dyson's posture, leaning back in her chair. "But...what about everything?"

Despite the ambiguity in her statement, Dyson knew exactly what she was referring to. "Trick asked me to watch out for Bo, and I agreed, I just didn't expect things to turn out the way they did," Dyson tried to explain. "I care for her, and I lost myself."

"Why now," Kenzi tried to process everything.

"I don't know, I just…it felt right," Dyson answered.

Kenzi nodded, "Okay."

"Is that everything you want to know," Dyson asked softly, ready for the worst now.

"For now," Kenzi told him. Silence fell, it was tense, neither quite sure how to move forward. Kenzi, however, pushed forward anyway, "So, legs, butt, or boobs?"

Dyson coughed, "What?"

"Which is your favorite, of mine of course," Kenzi prompted.

Dyson's smile became muddled with a frown, "I like everything, feet, hips, belly, arms, neck, nose…"

"Cheeky," Kenzi told him smartly.

"Those too, I like them," Dyson smirked, leaning forward and grasping her hand.

Kenzi laughed teeth flashing as she laced her fingers with Dyson's. "This is really nice."

Dyson agreed easily before he frowned, "I think you dancing on my kitchen counter is nice."

The blush returned full force, "Oh god!"

"I really enjoyed the show," Dyson continued. "You're very flexible."

"I'm never doing that again," Kenzi exclaimed, her free hand rose to cover her eyes.

Dyson squeezed her hand, causing Kenzi to drop her hand so she could see him, "I'm afraid I'll have to forbid that."

It was said with such seriousness that Kenzi couldn't keep a straight face. Her leg bounced beneath the table in laughter, "Dyson!"

* * *

A local bar had been closed for the night for the precinct holiday party, it was warm and the music was playing softly. Dyson held the door open for Kenzi ever the gentleman. She smiled, head slightly lowered as she walked into the bar. They were met, almost immediately, with the sight of Hale flirting blatantly and a little crudely with a leggy brunette.

"Is that the new lamb he's chasing," Kenzi whispered back to Dyson.

Dyson shrugged and helped Kenzi out of her coat, "He said he was bringing a friend of a friend. So I would say yes."

"And the woman playing with the knife and glaring at him," Kenzi tipped her head in the direction of the bar, "that would be the receptionist he totally ticked off by wham-bam-not-so-much-with-the-thank-you-ma'am?"

"You do have a way with words," Dyson whispered in her ear. "So, ready to go wow the crowd?"

"Dyson, sweetie," Kenzi purred, "have you seen me in this dress?"

Dyson took another gander, his eyes drifting up from her feet, "I most certainly have, and I see your point."

"Good," Kenzi took his arm.

"Coincidentally," the shifter muttered, "I also see your first victim."

"Oh," Kenzi asked.

"The receptionist, she tried to hit on me," Dyson informed Kenzi as he began to steer her through the crowd of cops and other office staff.

"Oh really," Kenzi asked darkly, leaning into Dyson's body, "lead the way."

Sidling up to the bar, Dyson signaled the bartender before letting his gaze drift to the woman next to him: the receptionist.

"Detective," she breathed his name, her shoulders falling back and her way too low cut dress stretched dangerously against straining flesh.

"…uh," Dyson faked confusion.

"Nikki," she reminded him.

"Right," Dyson smiled, "Nikki, this is my girlfriend, Kenzi." He stepped back a tad so that he could curl his arm around Kenzi.

The smile on the woman's face faltered, "Girlfriend?"

Dyson nodded, bending to kiss Kenzi's cheek, "Yeah, she's brilliant."

"It's nice to meet you," Kenzi offered sweetly. "What do you do at the station?"

Nikki fixed her smile, forcing it a little, "I'm the receptionist, and everyone loves me." Kenzi had to elbow Dyson when she felt him begin to laugh, turning it to a cough. "And what do you do, Kinzi?"

"It's Kenzi," the Russian corrected lightly, "My partner and I run a private detective firm."

"Oh," Nikki muttered.

"Kenzi is really something, I don't know how I lived my life without her," Dyson said honestly, not having to play it up. Kenzi smiled up at Dyson as Nikki's smile became an angry grimace. A new song started to play, it was familiar, "Come on," Dyson urged Kenzi to follow him onto the dance floor.

With a soft happy sigh, Kenzi allowed Dyson to spin her lightly. He drew her close, one hand splayed across her back, the other holding hers to his chest. "Oh please, say to me, you'll let me be your man, and please, say to me, you'll let me hold your hand," Dyson sang softly as they swayed. The party disappeared around them, the world shrinking to just the pair of them.

* * *

"_When I was thirteen I only wanted to be a drummer."__  
__-Ringo Starr_

* * *

A/N: 13/25. Today happened to be Friday the 13th, I had a shit day. I'm so happy it is Friday. I am physically and emotionally exhausted, but I'm powering through. On to happier things, we finally have some Denzi love! Thanks for all the lovely reviews, lots of love to you all!


	14. A Game

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_14 December, 2013_

The first date had gone off without a hitch. Dyson had dropped Kenzi off at home just before midnight with a gentle kiss as a parting gift. Kenzi had been smiling all night long, Dyson had been sweet and charming as ever, but it was a little strange for her to have his attention so fully on her.

They had danced and drank, and Kenzi had, as promised, made the men in the room drool. Hale had tried to steal Kenzi away from Dyson for a quick dance, but Dyson had _accidentally_ tipped Hale's drink back onto the man. Hale had been forced to find a bottle of soda-water to clean the red wine from his jacket. Kenzi had then participated in a drinking competition, taking down Dyson's captain and half of the detectives. What could she say? She had always been determined to succeed in life. For Kenzi, it was like a rite of passage. At least in the sense that she sort of wanted Dyson's colleagues to like her on a personal level, sure they respected her conning skills, but not who she was.

According to Dyson she was a hit. Most of Kenzi's drinking partners had apparently spent much of the early morning with their heads on their desks. Dyson had of course rubbed in the fact that Kenzi was up and about, Kenzi having opened the door that morning to find Dyson holding a box of donuts.

That was how Kenzi had spent her morning-after, curled up on the couch with a box of donuts and the latest hooker killing game. Not only was killing hookers therapeutic, it was actually quite the hangover cure. The donuts didn't hurt either. The delicious sugary drippy-ness. It was _really _delicious.

"Die," Kenzi gritted out, donut between her teeth and fingers jabbing the buttons harshly.

"Woah," Bo slid onto the couch beside her. "Anger issues, Kenz?"

"Hangover," Kenzi replied. "Donut?"

"Don't mind if I do," replied Bo as she snatched a pink frosted donut from the box and began to lick it. "So what did you and Dyson get up to last night?"

"We went out to a bar, and I got involved in a drinking competition," Kenzi answered vaguely.

"Sounds like fun," Bo smiled, "So the flowers were just coincidental?"

"Okay the flowers were nice," Kenzi shrugged. "I don't know. Is it weird?"

"The flowers," Bo asked.

"Yeah," Kenzi offered.

Bo shrugged, biting into the donut, "I don't think it is. I mean I guess I've just never seen this side of him."

"What do you mean," Kenzi asked.

"He brought you flowers," Bo reminded Kenzi, "you guys hang out and talk, and I'm guessing the donuts are courtesy of him too."

"So," Kenzi defended pausing her game and turning to face Bo. "It's not like he's acting totally weird."

"So what," Bo shook her head, "he clearly likes you and you clearly like him."

"I so don't," Kenzi lied, totally not okay with Bo finding out the truth.

"Kenz," Bo chided, "I see you, as much as you think I'm a little flaky lately, and I have been, I know you."

"No," Kenzi denied, "I don't."

"It's okay," Bo tried again. "You seem happier lately, and I think that has to do with a certain wolf."

"Bo," Kenzi sighed, her good mood quickly evaporating.

"Just," Bo reached out to squeeze Kenzi's hand, "don't think you have to hide anything from me. We're sisters from another mister, nothing, _nothing_ can come between us. Except maybe a really, _really_ hot construction worker."

Kenzi tossed her controller to the side and lunged to hug Bo. "Thanks," she whispered, "you know," Kenzi sat back, "if I had anything I needed to tell you."

"Right," Bo smiled. "Damn this is a good donut. You think you could squeeze another dozen out of him?"

Kenzi giggled, "Maybe if I start doing yoga at the Dal."

"Tamsin would _so_ watch that," Bo snorted. "And then she might help you stretch out."

"That girl has some serious boundary issues," Kenzi informed Bo. "If she wasn't so fun, I might question why we hang out with her."

"Yeah," Bo agreed softly. "Speaking of Tamsin, guess what we got up to last night?"

"What," Kenzi's eyes lit up.

Bo sat back, "I might need some booze to spill every detail, but the highlights involve body shots, honey, and one or two Santa's with some serious packages."

"Uh, you have all the fun," Kenzi pouted, "I once got to hit the back end of a reindeer, trust me the front half was super jelly."

"Tell me this isn't why you want to bone Dyson," Bo choked out, her face reddening.

"Ew, oh ick," Kenzi gagged when she caught Bo's train of thought. "That is just so _no_!"

"Hey," Bo put up her hands defensively, "you're the one who walked right into that one."

"Fine," Kenzi admitted, "but I don't want to _bone_ wolfy-Dyson."

"I totally believe that," Bo smiled innocently before winking.

Kenzi huffed and sat back on the couch, "Bitch."

Bo rolled her eyes, leaning over and nudging Kenzi's shoulder, "So any plans for tonight?"

"None at the moment," Kenzi shrugged.

* * *

_Truth or Truth,_ Kenzi texted Dyson.

He replied quickly, _Chocolate or vanilla?_

_Chocolate, _Kenzi answered quickly. _Favorite Beatle?_

Kenzi could almost hear Dyson laughing_, Ringo, he's got charm_. _Snow or sun?_

_Both, I grew up loving the cold but running in the sun._ Kenzi thought a moment before she sent her question, _gloves of mittens?_

_On you, mittens. It would be cuter,_ Dyson typed back quickly. _Dal for lunch?_

_Yes,_ Kenzi set down her phone and went back to her video game for a few more rounds of killing hookers and smacking down pimps.

* * *

Kenzi was bundled up for the walk to the Dal, so when she walked through the doors she was forced to stomp off her boots and strip several layers off. Hanging up her jackets, Kenzi walked towards the bar only to change course halfway there. Dyson was leaning against the pool table setting it up, two beers on a nearby table along with two sandwiches.

"Hey," Kenzi smiled up at Dyson, giving him a quick hug. "How was the rest of the morning?"

"Slow," Dyson told her, brushing his lips against the top of her head. "There was a lot of coffee and more than a few doses of Chinese food."

"Yikes," Kenzi chuckled, picking up one of the beers and taking a sip, "yum."

Dyson smirked, "You look chipper."

"It's the miracle of the Kenz," she set her hands on her hips and lifted her chin in a pseudo-heroic pose. "That and I killed a lot of hookers and ate a lot of donuts."

"Very nice," Dyson said as he collected two sticks from the wall, "care for a game?"

Kenzi took the proffered stick, "It is _on_."

The game proceeded with a lot of not-so subtle flirting, teasing, and attempts at cheating. Kenzi was winning easily, a few smiles, hips swaying, and a few not-so gentle brushing touches, and she was unsettling the detective. The first game was Kenzi's without any possibility of it going in Dyson's favor. The second and third games were much the same. Kenzi wasn't a shark in a pool full of carp without reason. She had learned early and often that you took advantage of what you had and what you could do. While it wasn't strictly _nice_, what she was doing, it wasn't wrong.

Their sandwiches and beers disappeared, and at the end of the third game, Dyson was frustrated. "How is that possible," he wondered, "You've never beaten me before."

Kenzi shrugged innocently, "Luck?"

"Luck might account for one out of three, but you swept me," Dyson argued.

"Magic," Kenzi tried again.

"Guess again," Dyson frowned as he crossed his arms in stern expression.

Kenzi bit her lip and looked up at Dyson, eyes wide, "I don't know."

With a frown, Dyson stepped forward, "Dinner, your place, tonight."

"Chinese," Kenzi giggled.

"And a rematch," Dyson demanded with a smile.

* * *

The rematch Dyson had in mind was something quite different from what Kenzi at first thought. He had arrived with a red bag in hand and a little box filled with takeout containers. Taking the bag from Dyson, Kenzi peeked inside. She let out a sharp laugh.

"You do know I kick but at alcohol related games," Kenzi reminded Dyson.

His mouth twitched upward, "Maybe when playing against humans, but I'm a shifter, we run hotter, stronger, longer, and more efficiently."

"Was that supposed to sound as dirty as it did, or are my hormones flipping out," Kenzi asked dazedly.

Leaning down, Dyson pressed a kiss to Kenzi's lips. "I'm open to both options."

"Bad Dyson," Kenzi scolded and backed across the floor, moving into the kitchen. Spinning around, Kenzi settled the bag on the counter and began to unpack it. It wasn't much work. Ten shot glasses half marked with an 'x' the others with an 'o'. Once they were lined up, Kenzi set the tic-tac-toe board between the lines of glasses.

Dyson had set to work arranging their dinner. For Kenzi a container of general's kung-pao chicken with extra chicken and for Dyson cha siu and roast veggies. "And for our drinking pleasure," Dyson drew out a bottle of really good whiskey.

Kenzi moaned, "This is going to be fun."

"Rules," Dyson told her, "You get blocked, you drink, you put a glass down, you drink, you lose, you drink."

"Sounds good," Kenzi sat down across from Dyson, "with one addition. Winner gets a massage."

"I look forward to my reward," Dyson answered quickly. "So we should start so I can win."

Kenzi laughed and picked up a piece of chicken with her chopsticks, she bit into it with vigor. It was on. If Dyson thought that he was going to win this, he had something coming to him. Kenzi did not lose. Not at games.

There was very little talking as they flipped a coin to see who would go first. The first five games ended in ties, both of them laughing more and eating less as time and the whiskey began to take effect.

A soft hiccup spilled from Kenzi's mouth as she dropped her 'o' glass onto the board. She was beginning to feel a little sluggish, the whiskey beginning to numb her mind. Shaking herself, Kenzi sat back up. It was the sixth game, and she was determined to end this while she was still semi-conscious. Stretching, Kenzi dropped her arms and tugged her shirt down, exposing more of her chest. Then she crossed her legs, and it wasn't her fault if her bare foot ended up tracing Dyson's inseam.

She watched him swallow. She smiled sweetly, leaned forward, and reminded him, "It's your turn."

Dyson's eyes were locked with hers, he tipped back the shot, his eyes drifting down and, at a crucial moment, Dyson placed his glass down one spot over from where he should have. With a quick lick of her lips, Kenzi tipped her next glass back and set it slowly on the board.

"Tic, tac, toe," Kenzi enunciated slowly.

Dyson's eyes snapped down to the board, he laughed under his breath, "You won."

"I did," Kenzi pouted prettily, picking up one more shot and downing it. "Victory is rather sweet."

"You cheated," Dyson accused.

"Did I," Kenzi tilted her head to the side, her voice heavy with false innocence.

"You did," Dyson confirmed, standing and making his way around the table. "I think cheating erases your win."

Kenzi slid off her chair, head tipped back so she could watch Dyson's face. "What are you going to do about it?"

Dyson stepped forward, Kenzi stepping back. He repeated and she retreated. Swiftly Kenzi found her back against the wall, Dyson before her. "I'll think of something."

"Oh," Kenzi panted softly.

Dyson smirked, leaning down and capturing Kenzi's soft lips. He could taste her, she was honey and the heat of alcohol. Her lips parted and Dyson took the opportunity, tilting her head back and pulling her up against him. "Mm," Kenzi shivered against him.

* * *

"_When I work fourteen hours a day, seven days a week, I get lucky."__  
__-Armand Hammer__  
_

* * *

A/N: 14/25. Papers to grade, papers to grade, oh well, this decided to wriggle out. It has been a long day, and I need a nap…or just to go to bed. Well, have a good night all!


	15. Candles

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_15 December, 2013_

"So not the shoes for running," Kenzi yelped as she chased after the suspect.

Bo laughed, "That's a first."

"Ugh," Kenzi grunted as she ran beside Bo. "Couldn't we just shoot him?"

"With what," Bo panted.

Kenzi shrugged, "I don't know? Taser, maybe a BB-gun."

"Both of which we _don't_ have," Bo reminded her partner in solving crime.

"Well we should," Kenzi pointed out, pushing herself a little harder, "think of it as our Christmas kicking-ass list."

"Right I'll let Santa know," Bo remarked sarcastically as they took a corner.

Kenzi panted sharply, "Just text it to Trick, you know he barely checks his mail anymore."

Bo frowned down at her friend, "You text my grandfather?"

"Sure," Kenzi said, "it's how I know when he's got a special on."

"Really," Bo asked.

"Totally," Kenzi breathed. "Also, I think we lost her."

Bo jogged to a slow, "How can that little bitch get away from us, she looked like she was auditioning for Mrs. Claus at the mall."

"Well Santa's pretty fast, so Mrs. Claus must've picked it up," Kenzi joked.

"Okay," Bo sighed, leaning over to rest her hands on her knees. "What do we do now?"

"Well," Kenzi leaned against the wall, "we could go and check her boyfriend's place. He seemed pretty weird earlier."

"Are you sure that wasn't the halo and cheeto dust?"

"Well, there is that," Kenzi admitted. "But we may as well try. She might try to squeeze under his bed."

"That would be a funny sight, okay, let's go," Bo nodded.

"You want to get a cab back to the car," Kenzi asked as she set her hands on her hips and leaned back.

"Totally," Bo agreed.

* * *

A quick touch to the back of the neck earned Bo and Kenzi a free ride back to Bo's car. Kenzi and Bo had stumbled from the cab with a laugh and a pat on the top of the driver's head. In the cab they had quickly decided to stop back at the Clubhouse and get a few weapons and a change of shoes.

Kenzi hopped into the Clubhouse, one stiletto boot already off, Bo trailing her and unzipping her own boots. "We should so invest in sneakers," Bo sighed.

"When they start making sexy sneakers I'm in," the smaller girl laughed.

Bo's nose wrinkled in disgust, "We have a serious shoe problem."

"In that we like them too much, or that they don't make what we need," Kenzi puzzled.

"Both," Bo confessed. "Okay, weapons. Mace? Sword? Axe?"

"All of the above," Kenzi selected.

Bo blinked as she held the weapons up for inspection, "This isn't a multiple choice test."

"No," Kenzi agreed, "if it were, there would be a wrecking ball."

"You frighten me," Bo inhaled deeply.

Kenzi smiled, "Thanks, that is so sweet."

* * *

Bo and Kenzi stood on the first floor apartment, mace and sword hidden behind their backs. With a nod to Kenzi, Bo banged her fist on the peeling door. The thudding music cut off and the floor creaked as the occupant inside moved towards them. Kenzi and Bo braced themselves for what was to come.

The door swung inward to show a tall, slightly gangly man, "Oh, it's you again."

Bo smiled, "Yeah us. So, you haven't seen Lesley, have you?"

"No," he drew out the word. "Is that all?"

"No," Kenzi offered sweetly, bracing her foot against the door, "I was just wondering what your score is?"

"Why," the man asked slowly.

"Well," Kenzi twirled a length of hair around her finger, "I've always been a bit of gamer-groupie."

Bo put a restraining hand on Kenzi's shoulder, "I'm sorry about her, she has a real problem. We're thinking about putting her in rehab for nymphomania."

"Well," the guy straightened, "if you come back in a few hours, I'll be free, and I'd love to show you my joy stick."

"Okay," Kenzi agreed, and the man moved to shut the door only to have Bo kick it open, sending him sprawling.

Bo looked down at him, "Yeah your little girlfriend is in here, you're really not subtle at all."

With a nod, Bo and Kenzi advanced into the apartment, Kenzi wielding Gerladine and Bo ready to swing her mace.

At the sight of the weapons, the man on the floor gulped, "Whoa man, do whatever you want."

"Thanks," Kenzi rolled her eyes. "Bedroom?"

"Yeah," Bo said as she moved further into the tiny apartment.

The bedroom door was cracked, and Bo being Bo kicked it open. It bounced back open followed by a thunk. Frowning, Kenzi pushed it open a little and peeked inside. There on the floor was their suspect. A little dazed, Lesley pushed herself up. Kenzi was on her in seconds, zip tying her hands together.

It took both Bo and Kenzi to drag the struggling woman out to the car, shoving her in the trunk, with a little menacing with a mace and a sword. The trunk closed with a metallic clunk. Kenzi tipped her head back in exhaustion.

"Okay, I am _so_ done with bounty cases," the human woman huffed in annoyance, noting that the trunk seemed to be dipping excessively.

"Yeah," Bo said as she pulled her keys out. "Okay let's get Light-fingered Lesley back to her bosses at the Yang Casino."

"Here's my question," Kenzi said as she slid into the passenger seat. "Why would a Fae casino deal in mice, and why would Lesley steal them?"

"I don't know," Bo shrugged as she started the car and pulled out onto the road. "Maybe she's one of those freaky save the lab-rats people."

"I guess," Kenzi frowned. "It's still weird thought. Remind me not to eat or drink anything they offer."

"Ditto."

* * *

"Ew," Kenzi stared at the cage. "I can't believe this. Worst case ever."

"We say that a lot," Bo realized.

Kenzi tilted her head considering that truth, "I think this warrants it though. They gave us a cage of dead rats. Not even live ones. Dead."

"And you brought those vermin into _my_ bar," Trick scowled at them.

"You want them," Bo offered with a little smile, "our treat."

"Hell no, and you girls better get those damn things out of here before I call the cops," Trick pointed towards the door.

"Fine," Bo grumbled and picked up the cage, carefully holding it away from her.

"I know where we can get rid of them," Kenzi answered playfully.

"Do tell."

As the pair walked from the bar Kenzi muttered her solution. Bo snorted in laughter, clearly finding the other woman's plan to be more than adequate.

* * *

Bo held Kenzi's foot in her hand, carefully painting her toenails 'sultry sex goddess red'. After their morning case, midmorning shenanigans, and liquid lunch, the two private detectives had decided that a girls' afternoon in was in order. Tamsin had been sadly unavailable. She had answered her phone only to yell that she was 'coming'. Neither Bo or Kenzi wanted to read _too_ much into that.

"You want to do game night tonight," Kenzi asked.

"Who's coming," she asked before quickly regretting her phrasing.

Kenzi blew on her newly painted nails, "I was thinking you, me, Dyson, Hale, maybe Tamsin if she gets off that guy. And _ew_, with the words."

"Sounds fun, what games are we going to play," Bo giggled.

"Drunk Monopoly, Thirsty Thirsty Hippos, Drink & Strip Twister, you know, the usual," Kenzi answered nonchalantly.

"Where do you come up with these things," Bo asked in frightened awe.

Kenzi lay back on Bo's bed, "I used to crash a lot of frat parties to pick rich drunk kids' pockets."

"Ah, that explains it all. Well send out the message."

* * *

With four R.S.V.P.s, Kenzi had cleared the living room floor and dug the board games out of the closet. They had been buried beneath a layer of weapons and a hookah from an ill-fated party a while ago.

"Pizza's here," Bo called as Kenzi kicked set out the Monopoly board.

"Did you get a receipt," Kenzi joked.

Bo smiled and picked up the horse token, "Not unless you mean his digits and three free pizzas."

"That is what I meant," Kenzi smiled. "You want the horse?"

"Yeah, I really like riding."

"Well, Tamsin might be a little jealous," Kenzi shrugged, "dog for Dyson, iron for Hale, spinning wheel for Tamsin, and the thimble for me?"

"Sounds good," Bo sat back on the couch.

"Yo," Tamsin yelled as she walked—or rather rode into the apartment. "Giddy-up, Hale!"

Kenzi tipped her head towards the door to watch the spectacle. Hale grunted and jumped slightly to resituate Tamsin. "Why am _I_ doing this," he straightened and dumped Tamsin on her ass,

"Hey," the valkyrie yelped, rising to her feet and rubbing her behind. "Not cool, man."

"What did I miss," Dyson asked as he entered the building. "Tamsin are you okay?"

"Fine," she scowled, "except for this rat," she jerked her thumb in Hale's direction.

Hale sulked and dropped down on the armchair, "Monopoly?"

"Oh yeah," Kenzi grinned. "Bo drinks, while I explain he rules. You take a sip of beer whenever you roll doubles or land on someone's property. Finish your beer if you go to jail, and you give everyone a shot if you get free parking."

Quick nods of agreement went around the room, Dyson settling beside Kenzi on the couch. Tokens were handed out as well as beers. Kenzi, as the hostess rolled first, managing to buy a railroad and pocket her change in her bra. There were a lot of firsts, Tamsin was, not surprisingly, the first to go to jail. Bo, the first to land on someone's property, Hale the first to roll doubles repeatedly, three times to be specific. Dyson, however managed to get the first free parking card and happily handed out shots, the five of them steadily sliding into buzzed.

* * *

Monopoly was abandoned after the math became a bit too challenging. That game had been shoved back into the box and under the couch, Hippos coming out in exchange. There was a severe amount of shouldering as Tamsin refereed the match, being as partial as she possibly could. Over the shouting, one could barely hear the snapping of plastic against plastic as they tried desperately to get as many little white balls as possible in order to be win the honor of doling out shots.

* * *

"Holy hell," Kenzi muttered slowly as she twisted her body across the mat. "Twister after Thirsty Hippos is a _terrible_ idea."

"You're not wrong," Tamsin belched half on top of, half under Kenzi. "Also I think Hale is enjoying this a little too much."

Kenzi glanced over at the giggling spinner, "You're not wrong."

It was just Kenzi and Tamsin left in this round. Bo had gone out first, taking her punishment drink and practically crawling into her room. Dyson had dropped out next, now he was reclining on the couch, eyes pinned on Kenzi. At long last Kenzi and Tamsin fell together. Hale giggling as Tamsin scrambled to claw his eyes out and Dyson lifted Kenzi to her feet.

"Time for bed," He ordered, reminding Hale and Tamsin that they had to go somewhere else at some point. Dyson walked Kenzi to her room, setting her down on her bed and helping her on with some pajamas as she had lost much of her clothing during the strip portion of the game.

"You're so nice," Kenzi mumbled as she hugged Dyson.

Dyson tucked her into the bed, before picking up a bag he had hidden in her room earlier. With a smile, Dyson lifted several candles from the bag and set them on her bedside table, using his lighter to light the wicks.

Kenzi watched him through alcohol addled eyes, she inhaled as the candles burned, "Those smell nice."

"Vanilla," Dyson said as he pulled his shirt and jeans off.

Kenzi watched as Dyson climbed into bed behind her and wrapped his arms around her, grounding her as her head swum. Shifting slightly so she was pressed back against Dyson, Kenzi watched the flames flicker in the dark of her room.

"I like this too," Kenzi admitted. "The domestic stuff."

Dyson exhaled with a smile and pressed a kiss to Kenzi's neck, faintly tasting the salt and tequila from earlier. "It is nice."

* * *

"_In fifteen minutes, everyone will be famous."_

_-Andy Warhol_

* * *

A/N: 15/25. Ten more to go! So interesting fact, I'm two degrees from Andy Warhol! I love playing that game, I also love playing drinking games as they become funnier and funnier as they go. Mostly because the rules become harder and harder to remember. Well, thanks for all the reviews, and lots of love!


	16. A Bowtie

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_16 December, 2013_

"Dyson," Kenzi grumbled, voice hoarse from the brutal shots. "Wolf-man, mind letting me breathe?" Dyson inhaled slowly and rolled further into Kenzi. His arms tightened before they relaxed, Kenzi rolled over to face Dyson. "Dude, we smell like booze."

"Is that an invitation for a shower," Dyson kissed her forehead, "I wouldn't mind."

"You know, that's a response I expect out of Hale, or Tamsin," Kenzi grouched.

"You know, shifters run a little warmer," Dyson murmured, "I might be able to heat it up."

"Said every guy ever," Kenzi scoffed.

"Kenz," Dyson yawned, "I'm old enough to have been the first guy, and it would be have been true."

"You are pretty toasty," Kenzi grinned. "And as you know, our water never gets hot."

"So what you're saying," Dyson rubbed his hand up and down Kenzi's spine, "is that I'm hot?"

"You realize that I just, basically, propositioned you, and you missed it," Kenzi shifted her hips closer.

Dyson frowned, eyes still closed, "I was being a gentleman."

"There's being a gentleman and being an idiot," Kenzi noted dryly.

In one quick movement, Dyson's eyes had snapped open and he had rolled Kenzi fully underneath his body. "I can certainly fix that," Dyson growled, trapping Kenzi's hands and hovering above her.

"Interesting," Kenzi tipped her head to the side, "very interesting." With that, Kenzi arched her back and managed to slip her legs up and around Dyson's waist, tugging his pelvis down to hers.

"Huh," Dyson's eyes widened his body full awake in every sense of the word.

Kenzi smirked up at Dyson, "Something wrong?"

"No," Dyson breathed as he crushed his lips against hers. He pressed her down into the bed, the springs creaking rhythmically in the background as he pushed her further into the mattress.

A high pitched whimper issued from Kenzi as she struggled to meld her body with Dyson's. "Please," she whimpered, "please."

Dyson pulled back, eyes tracing her own heavily-lidded, hazy, eyes, her darkening bruised lips, the way her neck arched and her chest straining against lace bra and tank top. Eyes locked with hers, Dyson dipped his head down and planted kisses along the edge of the tank.

Kenzi's hips rocked half an involuntary reaction and half an attempt to flip them over so Kenzi could have the upper hand. "Dyson," his name was an inhaled breath on her lips as he nipped gently at her tender skin.

"Kenzi," Dyson pulled back slightly, just barely touching her, his warmth radiating but not enveloping. Slowly, he sat back, releasing his hold on Kenzi's wrists. Kenzi frowned as he pulled back.

"Hey, I wasn't done," Kenzi breathed out sharply, tightening her grip on Dyson's waist.

"Down girl," Dyson unlaced her legs. "We have all the time in the world, right now we should just enjoy being together."

"And what better way," Kenzi smiled, "than by being _together._"

Dyson laughed and dropped down onto the bed beside Kenzi, "That's not what's important."

"I don't steal a ride before I've taken it for a test ride," Kenzi retorted.

"What, my reputation doesn't precede me," Dyson laughed off her comment.

Kenzi sighed, "Well you know girls talk, and I've heard a _lot_ of things. I thought you might like the opportunity to earn some extra credit."

Dyson tucked an arm beneath his head, "I see now why you aren't allowed to babysit children."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Dyson sniffed lightly, counting the cracks in the ceiling.

Kenzi tugged the blankets back up around her, her body thrumming heavily. Slowly the thrumming dulled to a soft humming. Rolling her hips to release a little tension Kenzi yawned, the adrenaline dissipating and her exhaustion setting in once more. "Well," Kenzi snuggled into her pillow, "I'm going back to bed if you're just going to be a giant cock-tease."

Rolling onto his side, Dyson pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I have to go to work, have a nice nap, Kenz."

"Quiet," Kenzi growled, her voice muffled by the covers. "I haven't had my hangover cure!"

"Can I help you with that," Dyson asked as she sat up and began to re-dress himself.

She shook her head with a sigh, "I was hoping you were going to but you decided that it wasn't important."

"Sorry," Dyson leaned over and kissed Kenzi on the lips before smoothing her hair gently before kissing her temple.

"Jerk," Kenzi told him.

* * *

When Kenzi did emerge from her room it was with a sweatshirt wrapped around her. It was a ridiculously large monstrosity. It had been her cousins until he had decided to take hers. Kenzi had not appreciated the pink glitter paint he had splattered on it. Bo was face down on the couch. Tamsin, had apparently never left or come back for the company, lay on her back in the middle of the twister mat.

"Best night ever," Tamsin belched as her head lolled.

"Gross," Bo groaned into the couch.

Kenzi nodded before curling up in the armchair, "Ditto."

"Dyson was in your room," Tamsin asked blearily.

Bo's head tilted up in interest, "Ditto."

"He tripped…into my bed," Kenzi gave her excuse slowly and with a little confusion.

"Did he also trip into your lady-bits," Tamsin smirked.

Kenzi flicked a bottle cap at the laid out blonde, "No!"

"I'm sensing a lie," the valkyrie thrust her hips suggestively, making Bo laugh.

Kenzi flicked another bottle cap at Bo, the metal disc hitting her ass and bouncing off. Turning to Tamsin Kenzi glared at the girl, "Did Hale make it home, or did you tie him up and have your way with him?"

"Ew," Hale and Bo both gagged.

Tamsin burped again, "He is _so_ not my flavor of man."

"I'm not hearing a 'no'," Kenzi laughed.

"No," Tamsin ground out. "I don't think he would even go for it, if I wanted him to, it's like he wants to be some guy's bitch."

"You're not wrong," Bo sighed. "He's not really the pinch hitter."

"Did you bone a baseball player," Kenzi asked in confusion.

Bo shrugged, rolling over, "So sue me, I have a variety of interests…in men."

"This is honestly a little depressing," Kenzi sighed, fiddling with the hem of the sweatshirt, "Everyone in our group is getting some regular manwhich."

"What," Bo asked.

"Sex," Kenzi groaned. "I haven't had any in…I don't want to do the math."

"_That_ is too long," Tamsin agreed. "I don't think I've ever gone longer than a week and a half."

Bo nodded, "Ever since I got the DL, I haven't gone without."

"You guys suck," Kenzi huffed, ignoring the childish giggles. "It's a little hard to find a man who won't ask too many questions about where I go and who I'm with."

Tamsin shrugged, "You're kind of screwed, just date a Fae. You're already deeper into our world than is really feasible for most. You're better off going for a Fae, at least then you don't have to explain why you have a stash of weapons in your closet."

"Saw those then," Kenzi sighed.

The blonde nodded in assent, "It was a little hard to miss when I slept in there last night."

"Fair point," Kenzi sighed, glancing over at Bo who was already drifting off to sleep again.

* * *

Hale had been too drunk to focus when he had stumbled into his apartment, but the next morning he was _just_ sober enough to realize what he had missed. He had turned to lock his door only to come face to…face with a sight that was threatening a return of last night's booze. Attached, with what looked like superglue, were six dead rats hanging by their tails. The smell itself of the dead rodents was atrocious enough to make Hale back up and swallow the bile rising in his throat.

"Hell no," the man exclaimed, backing out of the hallway. He was _not_ going to stand for this shit.

* * *

Slamming into his chair, Hale glared across his desk at his partner. "I can't believe you."

"What," Dyson asked glancing up from the newspaper he was skimming.

"The _rats_," Hale hissed softly.

Dyson set the paper down, "The _what_?"

"Rats," Hale exclaimed.

"Okay," Dyson cleared his throat and sat back, "what exactly did you drink last night?"

"Nothing," Hale denied.

Dyson rolled his eyes, "Really because I remember you putting on Tamsin's heels and singing 'I'm a Little Teapot' while chugging a bottle of scotch. By the way, Kenzi was really pissed about the scotch."

"Man," Hale groaned, "but seriously there rats glued to my door this morning."

Dyson sat back with a chuckle, "Did you piss of any more women?"

"Shut up," Hale tossed stapler at his partner who easily caught it much to his annoyance.

* * *

It was a slow Monday. Dyson had spent much of his day texting Kenzi and deflecting Hale's questioning. It was a little surprising when his phone rang. He picked up, "Kenzi?"

"Do you own a bowtie?"

"Why," Dyson asked glancing around the squad room.

"Bowties are cool," Kenzi offered, "also I already tried on all your ties."

"Did you," Dyson smiled. "And why would you do that?"

Dyson frowned as he heard water running in the background, his shower was running. "Well," Kenzi stalled, "I kind of like dressing up."

"Check the box on the top shelf of my closet," Dyson told her.

"Have I told you I love your shower," Kenzi asked her voice a little distance.

"You haven't," Dyson told her, "got tired of the booze smell?"

"Yeah, well that and Tamsin fell asleep in the bathtub," she called.

"So she _didn't _go home last night?"

Kenzi snorted, "No, she slept in the closet."

"Huh."

"Yeah," Dyson could hear the pattern of falling water change as she shifted in the stream of water and sloughed off the layer that clung to her hair and skin. "So what are your plans for the rest of the day, Lawman?"

The smirk was evident in her voice, "I was thinking about cutting out early. I've got enough vacation days in to call dibs on the next week and half or so."

The water cut off, "Been saving up for a few decades?"

"Try a few hundred years," Dyson volleyed back.

"Well I'll be here…in your apartment if you want to swing by," Kenzi extended lightly.

Dyson smiled, "I'll certainly think about, bye Kenz."

* * *

Stepping hesitantly into his apartment Dyson hung up his jacket toed off his shoes. The apartment was mostly dark, except for his room. Light was filtering out from that particular room. Dyson inhaled, he was a little nervous about this. It was a little _too_ familiar. Dyson braced himself for the possible onslaught of emotions.

He stepped through the doorway and couldn't help but smile. Kenzi was lying on her stomach, book in hand. She wasn't wearing much. Tiny red yoga shorts stretched taut over her ass, a white camisole lay like liquid against her spine.

"Hey," he called.

Kenzi rolled over onto her side, peering back at Dyson who happened to catch a glimpse of the black bowtie around her neck, "Hey."

In two long strides Dyson was crawling across the bed, "Reading?"

"Mhm," Kenzi nodded as the tall man picked up the offending magazine and tossing it to the floor.

"Not in my bed," Dyson scolded gently as he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers.

It was a soft, slow dance. His hand rested on her hip before drawing upwards leaving a trail of heat on her skin. The gentle whisper of lips against lips became a languid press and pull, breath intermingling, heartbeats thudding and skipping.

It was soft and sweet, and Kenzi's mouth fell slack when Dyson pulled away. Her eyes took a moment to find the red slip of silk that dangled off of Dyson's finger, a grin gracing her face. "So you can stop stealing mine," he planted a kiss on her soft pink lips.

The bowtie slipped, forgotten, to the floor as Dyson traced Kenzi's body with his hands and her lips with his.

* * *

"_The pressure of public opinion is like the pressure of the atmosphere; you can't see it–but, all the same it is sixteen pounds to the square inch."_

_-James Russell Lowell_

* * *

A/N: 16/25. I am really looking forward to winter break, 4 more days to go. I really need a good nap and some late mornings. Thank you for all the love! I truly appreciate each and every comment. Have a Denzi night!


	17. A Lady

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_17 December, 2013_

Last night had been the last. Dyson couldn't do it anymore. Live in the apartment he had killed her, the Fae that looked like Kenzi. Even lying in bed holding her as she slept had been difficult, he kept hearing her cry out and then seeing her slump back. The fading warmth, the limp shoulders and spine. There was a reason Dyson preferred to sleep on the couch, a reason he hadn't particularly shared with anyone. It would be too hard, make it too real.

So, after dropping Kenzi back at the Clubhouse post dinner, Dyson had called his realtor. An old friend, old enough to know what Dyson liked, and what he needed, being a shifter. It hadn't been hard to make a choice. Somewhere in the same region, a little more homey and less rehabbed warehouse. Somewhere Dyson wouldn't picture Kenzi dead. Anywhere he wouldn't picture her dead.

It was good timing too, a fresh start for the new year, a place where he didn't have to be alone. He would have to buy new furniture, a new bed, to be sure. So in the morning light, Dyson signed the papers, picked up keys, and boxes. And in the midst of folding and packing, he called Kenzi.

"Good morning," he smiled as he heard her stifle a yawn.

"Morning," she breathed. "How is your day off?"

Dyson sat back against the couch, "It could be better."

"Oh," Dyson could hear her shifting, most likely sitting up in bed at long last.

"Yeah, a little company wouldn't go amiss," Dyson told her with a smile. "And maybe some heavy duty tape."

"I'm intrigued," Kenzi giggled, "Does this have to do with throwing Hale in the trash heap?"

"You'll see," Dyson teased.

* * *

"Yo-ho-ho-hh…" Kenzi breathed as she stepped into Dyson's flat. "What in the seven girdles of hell happened? Were you robbed?"

Dyson stood up and crossed the cluttered floor, kissing Kenzi quickly as he drew her into a hug. "I wasn't robbed."

"So what's with the hoarding bomb that went off," Kenzi glanced around the room pointedly.

"I'm moving," Dyson watched Kenzi's smiling face drop, her mouth slipping open slightly.

"What," Kenzi breathed almost inaudibly. "Moving?"

Her face was melting into disbelief, anger, fear. She stepped out of his arms, Dyson barely keeping hold of her shoulders. "Kenz," Dyson rubbed his thumb across her shoulder blade. She didn't respond she was lost in her own world. Sighing, Dyson picked her up and settled her on the counter, wrapping his arms around her.

His arms enveloping her seemed to snap her out of her daze. She pushed against him, shoving at his chest. "You're moving!"

"Yeah," Dyson finished.

"What the hell, man," Kenzi exhaled, her eyes watery. "Why, why the hell are leaving." The 'me' at the end of her sob was silent. She couldn't say it, not now, not when he was leaving. He even seemed…happy.

"I'm not _leaving_, Kenz," Dyson kissed her forehead. "I'm just moving to a new apartment."

The confusion and sadness turned to rage, "What. The. Hell, man!"

The laugh was expected, Dyson couldn't help it. Kenzi was something else. She went from pleased to pissed to punchy in seconds. It was dizzying to most. "It's about time I moved to a new place."

"And now seemed like a good time," Kenzi was fighting the urge to pinch his ear and scold him like a child. "At Christmas time?"

"Precisely," Dyson agreed.

Kenzi's eyes rolled back in amazement at the wolf's actions. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Dyson stroked her cheek. "A fresh start for a new year."

"But I like this place," Kenzi pouted prettily, Dyson dipping down and nibbling on the offending lip.

"I found something better," Dyson argued in a whisper. "A view of the city, heated floors, and a shower people would kill for."

Kenzi tilted her head back, moving away from Dyson's question lips. She was intrigued now, "Oh?"

Dyson grinned, "And if you help me, maybe I'll let you break it in."

"I guess…maybe moving wouldn't be the worst thing ever," Kenzi fought the grin that was threatening to overtake her face.

"So," Dyson trailed his fingertips up the outside of Kenzi's thighs, making circles on her hips before climbing higher. "We've only got a few boxes left to go, but I need someone to do a little shopping for me."

"Shopping you say," Kenzi squirmed on the counter as Dyson's fingertips skimmed across her.

"With my card," Dyson teased, "no limit."

"I'm in," Kenzi leaned in and kissed Dyson's cheek before catching his lips in a fierce kiss.

"My laptop is in the bedroom," Dyson directed as he helped her down off the counter.

With ease, Kenzi picked her way through the boxes, the scattered objects and mementos, and weapons. When she did enter Dyson's room she froze. The bed was missing. The mattress. The frame. They were just gone. Where his bed had stood there was just empty space.

"Dyson," she called over her shoulder, "are you sure you weren't robbed? You're bed is missing."

It was the first thing he had gotten rid of, "I need a new one," was his short reply.

"Oh-kay," moaned as she picked up the laptop and moved to settle next to Dyson in the living room. "So, bed, what else?"

Dyson, "Couches, dining room table?"

"What about storage," Kenzi asked as she skimmed through pages and pages of furniture options. Rejecting and mentally noting things she thought Dyson might like. "And what color scheme?"

"Brick, cream, and warm reds," Dyson offered.

"That's a change," Kenzi looked around Dyson's current place, it was minimalistic at heart. There were still some signs of graffiti on the walls.

"Bad?"

Kenzi shook her head and went back to shopping, "Nice."

* * *

Dyson had shortly abandoned packing the last of his things to help Kenzi shop. They had managed to pick out a nice big, tall bed and several couches and chairs to fill the living area. When, miraculously, Kenzi had become tired of shopping, Dyson had ordered in food. They had spent the next few hours, before the moving truck was to arrive, working on the last of the boxes.

Kenzi, at the moment was standing on a chair pulling things out of a makeshift closet. "You realize that most people keep their porn in under the bed," she asked dropping a shoebox to the floor, nose upturned.

"I don't have a bed," Dyson offered as he glanced down at the contents, "and _those_ aren't mine."

"Then whose are they," Kenzi prodded with a smirk.

"I never told you about the great Spring Cleaning of '05," Dyson rubbed a hand through his hair.

"Hale was living with a girl then, she started to clean up his closet and nearly stumbled up on these, lucky for Hale she found his stash of comic books first."

"So how did you end up with custody of Tiffany and Krystale?"

Dyson chuckled, "Well I woke up one night to a banging on my door. Turns out Hale had smuggled the box out of the apartment and begged me to take them in."

"Hello Christmas present," Kenzi's brow rose in hope.

Dyson reached up to squeeze her hip, "Not a bad idea, Sweetheart."

Kenzi frowned, "Is that my nickname?"

"I don't know," Dyson frowned, "why, you don't like it?"

"I don't know," Kenzi mimicked, leaning down and wrapping her arms around Dyson's neck and curling her legs around his waist. "I've never really had a nickname like that."

Dyson pressed a kiss to Kenzi's shoulder before moving to her collar bone. Her neck was the next to receive his attention, he nipped at the tender skin, but he was quick to sooth the aggravation away with his tongue. Kenzi shivered. "You like that, Dove?"

Kenzi let out a moan turned laugh, "Done?"

"No," Dyson asked. "Okay, what about Bambi?"

Kenzi huffed lightly, "I am not a stripper."

Setting Kenzi on the back of the couch, Dyson worked at tugging off t-shirt, "Kitten?"

"Mm," Kenzi sighed, "I guess that's not _so_ bad."

"Kitten it is," Dyson grinned, tugging the shirt over Kenzi's head. "So how about we make a few last memories?"

Kenzi bit her lip as she began to play with the hem of Dyson's shirt, "Like what?"

"I was thinking a repeat of your countertop dancing," Dyson muttered against the pulse in her neck, suckling gently.

"_Really_," Kenzi groaned darkly, "You have me shirtless and all alone, and you want to watch me dance? I'm starting to think you have a problem."

"Actually," Dyson lifted his camera from a box at his feet, "I was thinking we decorate with a few photos."

Kenzi laughed breathlessly, "Then I think I'm wearing too much."

"I won't complain," Dyson said as he began to fiddle with the settings and the focus on his camera.

Sliding off the back of the couch Kenzi's hands dropped to her jeans, popping the three buttons open with ease. Out of the corner of his eyes, Dyson watched her shimmying out of the tight material. Inch by inch soft flesh became visible, soft, warm flesh covered by black lace boy-shorts, the play of muscle beneath shining skin.

When she had shed the _unnecessary_ layers, Kenzi walked with a sway in her step, hips rolling with each foot she set down. At the counter, Kenzi pushed herself up with a little jump, knees planted she crawled forward, arching and relaxing her back.

Dyson raised the camera up so he could capture each moment. He waited patiently as she rose to her feet, stretching to the sky and letting her head fall back arms following gracefully. Her eyes slipped closed as she relaxed into the pose, the click of the shutter was the only noise in the apartment. Kenzi straightened slowly, as she rose onto her toes, lifting her left leg up and towards the sky. She lowered it to the side slowly, slipping back down to flat feet. The next click came as Kenzi lay on her back, face tilted towards Dyson a lethargic smile on her face as her back arched off the table and her legs crossed at the ankle and bent.

Dyson watched Kenzi move slowly, it was beautiful. She was beautiful. As fragile as humans were, Kenzi was impossibly strong and flexible. She was everything. The camera was set aside and Dyson just watched Kenzi dance and twist and turn on the counter. She was beyond graceful with each slow movement. He had known she was built for grace, he had seen it before, but seeing her dance, it was almost hard to believe.

* * *

The boxes and the last of Dyson's furniture had been taken away, two very strong Fae loading it into a truck with ease. Kenzi trailed back up the stairs and into his apartment. She was a little unsettled that this was probably the last time she would be there. The apartment was frighteningly empty…except for a box in the center of the room. It had a green bow wrapped around it.

Kenzi stilled, staring at the box, Dyson nudged her forward, "Early Christmas present."

"Aw," Kenzi leaned over and turned slightly to kiss Dyson's scruffy cheek. "Can I open it?"

Dyson only nodded, watching Kenzi skip over to the box and begin to rip into it. The bow was slid off and threaded into her hair, the cardboard was popped open, tape breaking quickly. With a glance at Dyson, Kenzi bit her lip and dug through the mound of tissue paper. After a little digging Kenzi unearthed a metal tin. She popped it open and giggled excitedly.

"You made me a lady of the Scottish Highlands," Kenzi cooed. "I'm a lady!"

Dyson sat down behind Kenzi, slipping his arms around her waist, "Keep digging."

Kenzi did, pulling out a carefully folded dark red and black length of cloth, "A tartan?"

"Now we'll have to go and visit," Dyson smiled as he kissed her neck.

"Ooh," Kenzi bit her lip, "that would be so much fun!"

Tightening his grip, Dyson pulled Kenzi back and down to the floor. "Kitten," he murmured in her ear as he shifted her underneath him.

"Wolf-man," Kenzi called him in return.

Dyson breathed out a laugh, teeth scraping across her neck, her shoulder and her ear. "Does that make me the big bad wolf that eats little Kittens?"

* * *

"_It's embarrassing. We can't keep making mistakes. Seventeen days in, we can't keep making mistakes."_

_-Joe Girardi quotes_

* * *

A/N: 17/25. I love fluff, have you guys realized that? Ahh, so I have three days left of school before break starts. Luckily the teaching aspect is pretty much over. All I have left is finals. So after Friday I'm going to be a lot less stressed and a lot more relaxed. Well thank you for all the reviews, you guys are awesome and supportive!


	18. A Book

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_18 December, 2013_

Dyson checked his phone, he was waiting for lunch. He and Hale had been taking shifts watching a bank. There had been a 'credible' threat that there was going to be a heist. Hale and Dyson had been called in to cover it, even though he was on vacation. It had been a grudging agreement to help that got Dyson out of his former apartment. He had intended to spend the night at the new apartment, ideally with Kenzi lying next to him. Instead of showing Kenzi the apartment she had helped to furnish, he had been forced to drop her off at the Dal where she had been welcomed with open arms.

It had been an early morning, a short breakfast in a nearby bookstore, and then he was back on, Hale doing a little legwork while Dyson sat back and tried to stay awake. Okay, he was doing more than just trying to stay awake. He was actually doing a little research of his own. Just minus the legwork.

It had come quickly this year. Snuck up on him without any real warning. He had realized his predicament only the day before. Kenzi had mentioned it in passing, and it had become clear his mind had been elsewhere as of late. Dyson had been fixated on Kenzi. Just her. Nothing else. It wasn't unexpected. It was rather, precisely, the opposite. It was Christmas. He had presents to get and things to ask, and plans to move forward. Plans he should really finalize before his time ticked away.

A tap on his passenger window drew Dyson out of his thoughts. He glanced to the side and smiled as Kenzi leaned down and smiled at him through the dirty window. One eye on the bank, Dyson stretched over and unlocked the door, letting Kenzi in. She slid in and immediately leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, her soft lips leaving a sweet scent on his skin.

"Lunch," she presented a brown paper sack.

Dyson took the bag and returned the kiss, "Homemade?"

"That better be a joke, Mister," Kenzi crossed her arms over her chest. "I picked up one of Trickster's special sandwiches."

"Why does that sound like it's laced with cocaine," Dyson asked as he dug into the bag.

Kenzi shrugged, "We really don't know what that man puts in the food, but it _is_ addictive."

"It is," Dyson agreed as he bit into the sandwich.

"So," Kenzi slid off her boots and curled her feet beneath her, "I thought you were on break?"

Dyson nodded and swallowed, "I am, but they needed all hands on deck."

"So no vacation," Kenzi sighed.

"I'm done at three," Dyson informed Kenzi with a grin. "Then I thought that we might go explore my new place and unpack a little."

"We," Kenzi raised an eyebrow. "We, I'm not exactly lookout material. I get bored too easily."

"Check the backseat," Dyson patted her leg, squeezing her knee quickly before looking back out the window."

Kenzi rose to her knees, twisting and leaning into the backseat. She never noticed Dyson's attention refocus to the soft curve of her hip and ass. "You got me a book," Kenzi asked as she picked up the nondescript hardback book. She slipped back into her seat casting a puzzled glance at the detective beside her.

"Just open it," Dyson told her.

"Alright," Kenzi smiled softly and flipped the cover open. "Oh," she gasped lightly as she was met with a very pleasant sight. A man was vacuuming, shirt off, underneath the title _Porn for Women_. Kenzi tilted her head to the side, lower lip caught between her teeth. "I suppose I could entertain myself for a few hours."

Dyson laughed under his breath, "Okay."

Kenzi hummed a response and flipped to the next page, rotating the book so she could see the whole page a little better. "Mm, laundry."

Dyson glanced over to find Kenzi shifting lightly in her seat. Apparently he had picked out a good book. He finished his sandwich and cleaned his hands before resting his right hand on Kenzi's thigh. His fingertips stroked the supple flesh, touch straying further up her leg as he went. Kenzi squirmed again, trapping his hand in place, her thigh muscles clenching beneath his touch. Another page was turned, her legs relaxed, she shifted, and Dyson's fingers slid a little closer.

"Hey," Kenzi yelped as Dyson's fingers brushed her center, "I'm reading here."

Dyson slid his hand free and held it up in a show of forfeit. "Maybe I shouldn't have brought you a book."

Kenzi shook her head, "Oh you so did the right thing, now stop talking, I'm reading."

Dyson spent the next two hours being ignored, it wasn't exactly the company he had in mind, but he wasn't exactly mad. Kenzi was thrumming with energy, Dyson could hear her blood pumping and smell the delicate changes in her scent, and the spicy notes filled the car. At long last when Hale texted to let him know that he was there to relieve him.

With one hand, Dyson flipped the book out of her hand and closed, he tossed it into the backseat. "Time to go home, Kenz." She moaned at the loss of the photos but buckled her seatbelt and began to pull her boots back on as Dyson drove.

* * *

Kenzi had to admit that the building Dyson had pulled up to was nicer than his old building. It certainly wasn't a warehouse in a rundown neighborhood. This was a much warmer looking building. Dyson was by her side of the door before Kenzi could begin to get out. He helped her out of the car and led her to the elevator.

"Classy," Kenzi glanced around the wood paneled elevator.

Dyson tipped his head in acknowledgment as he hit the top floor button: six. Standing behind the tiny woman, Dyson wrapped his arms around her, holding back his urge to pick her up and kiss her senseless. It felt like a momentous occasion. It felt very _right_. When the elevator opened, Dyson urged Kenzi forward and down a short hallway to a dark wood door. Kenzi shifted to let Dyson get to the door, expecting him to open the door. Instead, Dyson pressed a shiny silver key into her hand.

"Go ahead," he kissed her neck tenderly.

Kenzi's eyes slid back to Dyson, "Okay." She slipped the silver key home, twisting it with little effort, the click of the bolt sliding back her reward. Smiling, Kenzi twisted the knob and pushed the door inward.

Moving to take a step forward, Kenzi found her feet being swept out from beneath her as Dyson lifted her into his arms and stepped across the threshold in one smooth movement. Kenzi fastened her arms around his neck, head thrown back in laughter as Dyson walked over to the center of the loft and set her down.

Kenzi spun in a circle, taking in the large, slanting, windows, the exposed brick, the cream and red paint that accented the huge space, and the vaulted ceiling.

"What do you think," Dyson asked.

"It's amazing," she gasped. "And oh my god, look at that kitchen, I could kiss that oven."

Dyson tugged gently on a dark lock of her hair, the strands slipping across his skin like silk. "Already thinking about baking in my oven?"

"God yes," Kenzi moaned starting towards the kitchen only to have Dyson latch onto her hand and tug her back into his arm.

"Do you want the full tour," he asked, quite pleased that all the furniture was in place,and all that was left was to unpack the boxes stacked in various corners of the loft.

"You have to ask," Kenzi wrapped her arms around Dyson's waist and peered up at him.

Leaning down, Dyson slipped his hands into Kenzi's hair, tangling the tresses around his fingers and tugging gently. Her head tipped back in response, mouth dropping open. Dyson drew her up against him, mouth latching on to hers. Kenzi moaned as Dyson's tongue swept across her lower lip, before her tongue darted out to meet his.

Breathing frantic, Kenzi slipped down Dyson, her shirt riding up as she felt each inch of his body. "Tour," she asked breathily.

"Right," Dyson nodded, smoothing down Kenzi's mussed hair and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

* * *

Hands linked as though it was their natural state, Dyson led Kenzi up the shining wood staircase. Kenzi was still marveling at the structure. Heavy wood beams sprouted from the floor and reached the ceiling reminding Kenzi of some of the barns she had played in as a child. At the top of the stairs was a sitting room and office space. Kenzi wasn't thrilled by this space, her eyes had been drawn down a passage, several doors stood closed, piquing the private detectives curiosity.

Dyson watched as Kenzi danced from foot to foot, anxious to move down the hallway. "Go on," he grinned, "my home is yours."

She laughed brightly, "D-man…"

"I know," he sighed, "I couldn't keep you out, even if I wanted to."

"I've got skills," Kenzi swung their connected hands lightly.

Dyson squeezed his hand lightly, "And a key," he reminded her about the key that was in his pocket.

"There is that," Kenzi remarked as she tugged Dyson down the hall, headed to the far door. Excitement clear in her footsteps, Kenzi pushed the door open and broke free of Dyson's hold. She launched herself with a squeal at the large bed, it wasn't made, but Kenzi didn't particularly care.

"Dyson," she said, "I think I'm going to have to ask you to leave so I can be alone with your mattress."

Said mattress dipped as Dyson crawled up beside her, "I suppose we could discuss joint custody."

"Screw you, man," Kenzi groaned. "I will _cut_ you."

Dyson scoffed at her violent reaction, "It sounds like we're going to have to have an intervention, Kitten."

"Shut up and go get the sheets," Kenzi ordered. "I think we deserve a nap."

"That could be arranged," Dyson rolled off the bed and retreated to the sitting area where the boxes had been left. When he returned, Kenzi was missing. Frowning, Dyson set to making the bed and putting pillows in pillowcases. When he had finished that, Dyson stepped into the attached bathroom.

"I'm never leaving," Kenzi stood in the shower, head tipped upward as she took in every feature and technology.

Dyson bit back the grin, he wasn't going to argue. Instead he leaned against the counter and watched as Kenzi explored. What he hadn't expected was for her shirt to drop to the floor and her jeans to quickly follow as she walked across the bathroom floor.

"You coming," she tossed over her shoulder as she headed back to the bedroom. "I'm exhausted, and if I'm going to spend the night helping you unpack, I'm going to need all my energy."

Taking his cue from her, Dyson stripped off his shirt and jeans. In two long strides he was level with Kenzi. He lifted her into his arms and tossed her onto the bed where she bounced and let out a startled yelp.

"Jerk," Kenzi muttered lightly as she scraped the covers down and slid beneath them, plumping and pillow to lay her head on.

Dyson slid in beside her, "You love it."

"I love these sheets," Kenzi twisted beneath the covers, the soft fabric slid across her skin leaving a trail of goose bumps.

Dyson shook his head and dragged Kenzi across the bed by the waist. She shifted to face him and he trailed a hand along her spin, around her hip and to her knee, hitching her leg over his hip. "So you like?"

"Yeah," Kenzi nuzzled Dyson's chest, "It feels nice." They lay quietly, breathing evening out. "Oh," Kenzi gasped, jerking upright a little before she relaxed, "you should get a Christmas tree!"

"A tree," Dyson asked. "With lights and ornaments?"

"Yeah," Kenzi rubbed her legs against Dyson's, "it would be nice. I can never have one at the Clubhouse because that place is _already_ a firetrap."

"I suppose I might be persuaded," Dyson teased, more content than he had been in years and years.

* * *

"_The longest journey a man must take is the eighteen inches from his head to his heart."_

_-Unknown_

* * *

A/N: 18/25. Emotional exhaustion has set in. The last five days and the next two are going to be trying. I've been in near tears several times, but all I can do is fight through the work-related crud and look forward to a quiet break. I hope all of your Decembers are turning out well. Thanks for the love & I hope you enjoyed the treat!


	19. A Tree

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_19 December_, _2013_

Kenzi bounced on the bed, "Six days."

"Six days, what," Dyson asked as he pulled on his socks.

"Six days until Christmas," Kenzi grinned brightly. "We need to get you a tree."

Dyson reached behind him and caught Kenzi's waist as she rolled away from him. She giggled as she was pulled towards him. When she collided with his back, Kenzi attempted to tug him back onto the bed with her. Dyson wasn't exactly easy to sway, he was quite firm…in more ways than one. Kenzi continued to tug only to have Dyson turn on her, pressing her into the bed.

"Us," Dyson told her lowly, "this isn't a 'me' thing, this is an 'us' thing."

Kenzi squirmed beneath him excitedly, "Does that mean we get to go pick out a tree?"

"Yes, but first we need to finish unpacking," Dyson told her firmly.

Kenzi scowled, "Whoa, I did my unpacking last night."

"Playing with my weapons is not unpacking, Kenz," Dyson laughed.

Kenzi had in fact helped unpack the bulk of Dyson's things after their nap. Dyson had actually been slow to wake. A little groggy and confused at the change of venue, he had calmed after a few moments of snuggling up against Kenzi. She had found the whole scenario a little laughable. But, she supposed, even a wolf was really just a big old puppy dog sometimes. Hell, Dyson had even started to kick his leg a little while he was sleeping and she was rubbing his side.

With Dyson reluctant to wake after his nap, Kenzi had set to work on the bedroom. She had managed to unpack everything without even disturbing the shifter. Then, she had helped herself to a shower, and god was it a good one. Dyson had actually woken while she was rinsing off and managed to slip in for a little show. That had earned him a wet towel to his face.

Kenzi was pulled back to the present as Dyson began to trace the line of her neck with the tip of his finger. "Where did you go," he asked with a soft smile, eyes searching her face for the answer.

"I was wondering if there was anything for breakfast," she grinned. "I'm starving."

"I doubt you're _starving_," Dyson stood up and pulled Kenzi off the bed and to her feet. "The fridge however, is stocked with a few things."

Kenzi pressed her lips together in a small smile, "Please say bacon."

"Bacon," Dyson whispered the word huskily.

Kenzi gulped, "That is _so_ hot."

Dyson bit back the laugh and leaned a little closer, "Bacon."

"I love bacon," Kenzi groaned. "I would marry it if I could, but then I would eat it and become a widow."

"Sometimes you disturb me, Kenz."

Her pink tongue slid between her lips, pointed at Dyson in annoyance.

"Very attractive," Dyson teased.

Kenzi slipped past him, flouncing out of the bedroom. "I know," she called over her shoulder as she bounced down the stairs.

Dyson padded after her. She jumped from step to step, light on her feet. Her hair bounced around her shoulders with each impact. Long legs tensing and relaxing as she moved. He watched her, the subtle roll of her hips from side to side. She paused as she reached the ground floor. She stretched upwards onto her tippy-toes letting the streaming sunlight skim over her skin, warming it. The sunlight seemed to make Kenzi's skin glow from within. Her typically pale skin was lighting up in warm tones.

As she settled onto the couch yet another box to be unpacked before her, Dyson descended the stairs and towards the kitchen. Dyson flicked the radio in the kitchen on, letting the soft tones of music into the loft. Kenzi glanced over him and tossed him a flash of a smile before turning back to the box.

Humming softly, Kenzi began to unearth the books and albums from the box before her. When they had all been laid out on the table, Kenzi rose and began to set them on the built-in cases around the TV. Kenzi, being Kenzi, took her time, flicking through books and reading the song lists on album covers. It was a glimpse into who Dyson was as a human being.

There were books in foreign tongues, handwritten accounts of battles, and books filled with images of rolling fields and tall grass, of forests and curving streams, and of sparkling skies. Kenzi traced the words and the lines with care. These were aspects she had never seen in Dyson before.

"Bacon's up," Dyson called as Kenzi stood back to admire her work. The shelves were filled with his books and his knickknacks, carefully arranged for order and visual appeal. The more important books and miscellanea objects on the higher shelves and out of reach.

Reaching the island, Kenzi pulled one of the stools to herself and hopped up as Dyson slid a plate filled with bacon and sunny-side up eggs. Kenzi dug in with gusto, chewing on the crispy bacon. "Bacon good," she sighed in between bites.

"Happy to oblige," Dyson laughed. "We only have a few more boxes to unpack, so after _bacon_ we can finish up."

Kenzi sighed, "Can I just eat bacon for a living?"

"No," Dyson told her, "besides, if you could, you wouldn't love it nearly as much as you do now."

"Sacrilege," Kenzi gasped, thrusting her fork at the wolf-man.

"Truth," Dyson growled, biting into a slice of bacon himself. "Don't deny it. There comes a point where too much is too much."

"Not true, at least not always," Kenzi shook her head vehemently. "I will never get tired of fudgy chocolate ice cream, of coffee, or of drinking and annoying Trick."

"I didn't hear bacon," Dyson pointed out.

Her nose crinkled in irritation, "Shut up or I'll tell hale it was you who glued rats to his door."

"I had a feeling you were behind that little caper," Dyson tipped a finger at her. "So what inspired it?"

"Hale has just been a giant wedgie lately," Kenzi shrugged, "and we had cage of rats. So Bo and I got a little tipsy and found some superglue."

"Bo was in on this," Dyson questioned. "You two touched dead rats?"

"Well," Kenzi halted with a click of her tongue. "We may have convinced someone to help us."

"Oh, please don't say Tamsin," Dyson pleaded.

"I wasn't going to."

Dyson set his fork down and watched Kenzi's face twitch into a bit of a smile, "So who was it?"

"Well we didn't really catch his name, but we did catch his ass," Kenzi offered helpfully.

"Resourceful _and_ alarming."

Kenzi scowled, "I think you mean _clever_ and _gorgeous_."

* * *

Kenzi glanced at her phone, "There are only a few tree lots open today. And it will probably be slim pickings. Why did we wait so long?"

The engine rolled over as Dyson glanced over at Kenzi. He had no intention of going to a tree lot. "Don't worry, Kitten, everything will be fine."

"If we end up with a Charlie Brown tree, I'm going to kill you," Kenzi smirked as she tucked her phone away. It took her several long moments to realize they weren't headed towards the city. They were headed away from it. "Hey," she tapped Dyson's bicep. "I don't think we're going to find a tree in the middle of nowhere."

"Relax, and trust me," Dyson reached over and threaded his fingers with hers.

"Fine," she puffed, "but if I end up in some sort of craigslist killer movie or Christmas Slaughter Four, I will haunt your ass."

"Deal," Dyson lifted her hand to his lips, leaving a trail of kisses on the back of her hand.

* * *

Kenzi drifted in and out of wakefulness. She was curled up with her head on Dyson's lap. She smiled as his hand ghosted over her hip, her side, her shoulder and tangled briefly in her hair before trailing back down. From her slim view out the window, Kenzi caught the flashes of trees and sunlight. It was nearing ten in the morning and Kenzi was fighting to stay awake. They had been driving for nearly two hours.

A thumb swiped across her cheek, "Almost there, Kenz."

"Almost where," she asked, "because I've been going on faith for a while now, and it's starting to sketch me out."

"You'll see," Dyson chuckled.

* * *

Kenzi did indeed see as Dyson pulled the car over and helped Kenzi sit upright. They were in a fairly secluded section of the woods. They were on a dirt road, a dead end of a dirt road. Kenzi pulled herself upright as Dyson slid out of the car.

"Bundle up," Dyson called to her as he opened the trunk and began to rifle inside it.

Kenzi grumbled as she pulled on the mittens and scarf Dyson had forced her to put on along with the warmest boots she had. "This better be worth it."

"Come on, Kenz," Dyson set off into a copse of trees, Kenzi scrambling out of the car and kicking up dirt and snow as she ran after him.

"Wait," she called, shoving her hands into her pockets.

Dyson did wait, but when Kenzi reached him she skidded to a stop, eyes wide. He reached out for her, but she sidestepped him, skipping around him lightly.

"Kenz."

"The axe is really not convincing me to walk into the deep dark woods with you," Kenzi chirped.

He laughed, startled, and swung the axe up onto his shoulder. "These woods are protected wolf-shifter land. My clan has land in nearly every country these days."

Kenzi stopped moving away from him and let him wrap an arm around her waist. "Really?"

Dyson nodded, "This where I come when I need space, or I just want to run."

Kenzi leaned into him, head twisting as she tried to take in every aspect of the dense forest. The trees reached towards the sky, towering above them. Even though there was layer of crisp snow it was still dark, the snow and the sun seemed to be blotted out by the canopy of leafy boughs.

The wolf tugged her a little closer, urging Kenzi to walk a little deeper into the woods. Kenzi allowed it, peeking over her shoulder only to find the car and the dirt road becoming quickly eclipsed by trees.

Dyson led Kenzi deeper into the forest, letting her go only when they had found a copse of evergreen trees. They were just the right size and age for a Christmas tree. Dyson let Kenzi walk amongst the green trees, giving her final decision. He wandered a little further away from her.

Kenzi brushed her mitten covered hands through the branches, snow shaking off the green needles in chunks and heavy flakes. She loved Christmas time. The scent of pine, the warmth of fires, the twinkling of lights and garland…it was wonderful.

"Dyson," Kenzi called, eyes locked on one particular tree.

The crunch of snow was the only sign Dyson had heard, Kenzi spun to see Dyson smiling, hair mussed and axe at the ready. "Stand aside, M'lady."

Kenzi giggled as he bowed briefly, gesturing for her to step aside. Kenzi did, backing up as Dyson lifted the axe in preparation to strike the tree Kenzi had selected. Kenzi watched in glee as Dyson brought the axe down in powerful swing after powerful swing. He was all power and grace. It didn't take much more than a few swings to fell the tree, Dyson laughingly calling out 'timber' much to Kenzi's amusement.

She sighed as he began to bind the tree, "I always did have a thing for lumberjacks."

Task, for the moment, done, Dyson set down the axe and beckoned Kenzi forward, "I want to show you something."

Kenzi followed Dyson, pushing at his hands when they managed to sip over his eyes. He stepped closer, guiding her through the snow and over the fallen branches and the dips in the ground.

At last, in a small clearing, Dyson lowered his hands. Kenzi gasped. There before them was a gigantic tree, its trunk littered with carvings. Kenzi stepped forward and gazed upward, the carvings stretched up farther than Kenzi could see.

Dyson kissed her cheek filling her with warmth, "For centuries lovers have come here and carved their names into this tree, trees like this are sacred."

A frown stretched across Kenzi's face and Dyson pulled her closer, drawing her attention to a fresh carving. There in the center of a heart were both their names.

"What," she breathed shakily. "Dyson, this is…" She wasn't sure what to say. He had told her it was a sacred tree. Now, Kenzi may have dabbled in some defacing of objects and buildings, but she didn't deface sacred things, and she didn't know what to think of what Dyson had done.

"Kenz," he pulled her to him, "I have loved you for too long now and remained silent. I'm done. I won't lie to myself, to you, or to anyone else. I love you, Kenzi."

She jerked backwards, only to have Dyson step with her, closing the gap and kissing her roughly. She breathed his name against his lips, the words that she wanted to say stuck in her throat.

Beneath a sacred tree for lovers, Dyson unburdened his heart and begged for her acceptance. That was all he wanted. For her to know, to not have to hold back those words. Words he had buried and ignored. Urges and sensations he had shoved aside. He was done. But they were just beginning.

* * *

"_Unquestionably, it is possible to do without happiness; it is done involuntarily by nineteen-twentieths of mankind."_

_- John Stuart Mill quotes_

* * *

A/N: 19/25. The storm that has been hanging over me seems to be coming to an end. As such, my creative juices were a little quicker today. Tomorrow I'll hopefully be posting even earlier! Gyah, sorry, the fluff sort of snuck up on me and now I'm a little loopy. Lots of love!


	20. A Bottle of Whiskey

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_20 December, 2013_

Kenzi shook her behind as she danced behind the bar. Trick had begged for a little help. It was the pre-weekend rush. Well, at least at the Dal. After informing Kenzi that _yes_, the Dal was quite similar to the airport rush at this time of the year. Apparently it was the start of the family visitations. And of course, each Fae that entered the city had to report to the Dal to sign in. It was just the way things were. Security, while not tightened, was certainly not lax. Both the Ash and Morrigan had assigned a guard to help Trick keep track of everyone and watch for fugitives.

Having been relegated to bartending, Kenzi was happily spinning around and serving beers and cocktails with ease. It was another of her little skills.

"Wench," one of the rather Neanderthal patrons at the end of the bar called, "my glass is empty."

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled under her breath. This was why she had never gotten a job as a waitress or a bartender. She wasn't going to put up with the grabby hands or the douchey commentary. In this situation, however, Kenzi was going to put up with it, because the guy had been shoving extra money her way and winking. She sauntered over to him and his pals, leaned over the bar top and smiled as she cocked her head, "Same?"

The man grunted and pushed the tankard across the rough wooden surface, "Yeah."

The 'same' happened to be a Pabst with a trace of slime from a pipe under the sink. Not that anyone would really be able to tell the difference. The wily Russian turned away and began to fix the man's drink. It only took a moment, and she knew his eyes certainly were not going to be focused on her hands. It had always been a part of her cons, she knew what her strengths were, and she utilized them. This was no different.

So with a toothy smile, Kenzi set the beer down in front of the man, "Can I get you anything else?"

"At the moment, nothing," he told her, lifting the mug to his lips and swallowing a heavy mouthful. Kenzi resisted the urge to grimace.

"Just let me know if you do," she pushed away from the counter and retreated to the other end to pour another round of shots for a group of elemental Fae.

"Everything alright, Kenzi," Trick checked in on her, one eye still at the line at the door.

Kenzi nodded and began to close out a tab for a table, "Peachy."

"Okay," he nodded, "there's another group coming through in an hour so be ready."

"Yes, sir," Kenzi sassed trick, saluting and moving on to yet another customer.

She couldn't help the deep frown that itched its way across her face. Neanderthal's buddy had arrived and was actually licking his lips like a dog staring at a t-bone. Kenzi's footsteps faltered but she never stopped. It was at times like these that Kenzi really wished she had some kickass powers to turn on these idiots. Although, she considered, sometimes that was exactly what attracted some people.

"You have a friend," Kenzi smiled tightly, voice hardly joyful.

"Vodka, and one for yourself," the new 'man' tipped his head down, long hair brushing his shoulders.

Kenzi nodded stiffly, "Thanks."

Like hell was she _not_ going to have a drink on this idiot, and it was going to be a good long one.

* * *

Neanderthal number two had disappeared, likely to the floor, somewhere around drink seven. Neanderthal number one was still drinking, albeit a little slower. His movements were becoming sloppier too, and so were his methods of persuasion. He had begun to get a little grabbier, touching her hand, her arm, her hair when he managed to get his fingers moving.

"Hey, Chica," Bo smiled as she dropped down onto a barstool. "Trick conned you into helping out today?"

"He asked you too," Kenzi returned.

Bo's eyes widened as she laughed abruptly, "Hell no, I told him I was coming down the whooping cough."

"And he bought that," she asked in disbelief.

"I don't know," the succubus shrugged, "I heard something about a 'pipe' and a 'cavity search' then he hung up."

"That would explain the guy they have strung up in the basement," the sole human in the bar muttered as she dragged her rag down the bar top, soaking up an errant liquor.

"Whoa," Bo leaned against the wood counter, "I thought he was just being dramatic."

"Me too!" Kenzi tossed the rag down, "And then I got here and it was like a piñata at six year-old's birthday party had busted open."

"Holy crap on a cracker," Bo exhaled sharply. "So dumb and dumber flanking Trick are?"

"A light and a dark Fae guard," Kenzi informed her. "Apparently there are actually some pretty bad Fae that come here to visit family."

Bo spun on her stool so she could get the full picture. The bar was full. There was barely walking room between people. It really was like a club or a party rather than a usually half-empty bar. It was strange to say the least. It felt less like their hangout and more like…a waiting room.

"So…I kind of need to tell you something," Kenzi set glass filled with vodka in front of the other woman.

Bo twisted back to face Kenzi, smile fading at the serious look that had taken over her best-friend's face. "What's up?"

"I know you said you would be fine with me and Dyson hanging out and all, but okay, it's sort of…he said something to me yesterday and I don't…I just…"

Bo couldn't help but smile and lean over to grip the much smaller hand of her sister, "Kenz, whatever it is, just tell me."

With a deep sigh, Kenzi verbalized the words that had been bouncing around her head for hours and hours. "He said he loved me."

Bo's eyes shot open, her face dropped a little, the color and humor fading, "Oh."

"Oh," Kenzi repeated.

"That's," Bo paused, searching for the words, steeling herself to say what she needed to say, "that's great, Kenz."

"That's not what your face is saying," Kenzi offered the stunned Bo.

"Well," Bo swallowed before taking a sip of the vodka, "I guess I just wasn't expecting that. I mean I thought, I knew you two liked each other, but I didn't…" The dark haired woman shifted in her seat, throwing her shoulders back and forcing a smile on her face. "I'm happy for you, Kenzi."

Kenzi frowned. She knew Bo wasn't telling her the whole truth. Bo wasn't happy, she was being a good sister and friend, but she wasn't happy. "Don't lie, please."

Bo brushed her hair behind her ear, "Okay." She took another drink, "It's a bit of a shock, I never knew really that Dyson was that…serious about you. I should have seen it. I guess I'm a little jealous."

"Why," Kenzi asked, she didn't think there was anything to be jealous about, angry sure.

"Because he _loves_ you," Bo stressed, a faint smile forming, "he _loves_ you, and you don't ever have to worry that it isn't true."

Kenzi frowned, "What does that mean."

"My powers, they can take a hold of the will of a person. I always wondered if Dyson really cared for me, or if I was making him care for me. I don't think I would have been happy not knowing why he was there," Bo explained slowly, halting when the words became too heavy.

"He cares, Bo-Bo," Kenzi squeezed her friend's hand.

Bo let out a shuddering breath, "Thanks, Kenz. For what it's worth, I _am_ happy for you, and him. And if he ever hurts you…let's just say I have a few friends that owe me rather large favors."

"Bo," Kenzi gasped in mock horror.

"So tell me everything," Bo grinned, her normal demeanor returning quickly.

"He took me into the woods," Kenzi started only to have Bo gag.

"Ew, this isn't a porno!"

Kenzi stuck her tongue out and stole a sip of Bo's drink, "No, he took me to a forest where there was this huge tree with tons of carvings, and he carved our names into the tree."

"Oh my god," Bo giggled, "that is disgustingly romantic."

Nodding, Kenzi bit her lip, "And then he told me and then we kissed."

"Freeze," Bo sat back, "you said it back, right?" Kenzi didn't respond. "_Right_," Bo repeated.

"No," Kenzi whispered, her voice rising as though it was a question.

"Oh my god," Bo exclaimed. "Hot guy takes you out to the woods, shows you a sickeningly sweet carving, tells you he loves you and you don't say it back! Why not?"

"I don't know," Kenzi pouted, "I just couldn't."

"Well do you," Bo prompted.

Kenzi sighed long and slow, "I guess."

"There is no guessing," Bo scolded. "What's holding you back?"

It was a number of things, really. The lack of definition, the lack of people knowing, the lack of support. Okay, Kenzi sighed, it was really that she was unsure of everything except for the one important thing.

"I do," Kenzi finally admitted, "but that's not all that matters."

Bo shook her head, "That is _all_ that matters. You need to tell him."

"Thanks, Bo-Bo," Kenzi murmured as she tried to hug Bo across the bar.

* * *

After Bo had left, Kenzi was dragged even deeper into the mess that once was the Dal. Neanderthal One had passed out and woken up with a second wind. So, Kenzi was once again at his beck and call.

"Let. Go," Kenzi ordered darkly as the 'man' in question held tight to her wrist. She didn't dare attempt to yank it free, the dude honestly had a bit of a Hercules thing going on.

"Let the lady go," a low, warm voice commanded, "or I will rip you limb from limb."

Kenzi looked up into Dyson's eyes, she mouthed a thank you as the man scrambled away from them, releasing Kenzi's hand with an almost audible snap.

"Well, well, well," Dyson smirked, "look what I found, a damsel in distress."

Her green eyes rolled, blue flecks fading away, "Ha-ha."

"So when do you get off," Dyson leaned against the counter and smiled charmingly down at her.

"I don't let customers pick me up," Kenzi rejected him with a dismissive laugh.

Dyson leaned down and kissed her cheek, "Then it is a very good thing I'm not a customer."

"So you're loitering and harassing the staff," Kenzi scowled playfully.

"Maybe," Dyson laughed. "So when _do_ you get off work?"

Kenzi glanced down at her bare wrist as if looking at a watch, "Mm, just about now." With a quick laugh, Kenzi tossed her apron on the back counter, let another waitress take her place and allowed Dyson to escort her out of the bar.

* * *

Kenzi reclined half under the Christmas tree she and Dyson had managed to put of the day before. It was still unsettlingly bald, no garland, no lights, and no ornaments. "We have so much to do," she moaned.

"Well," Dyson grinned and dropped a bottle wrapped with a red bow into her eye line, "maybe this will help things along."

Kenzi's face lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree, "Blue Label whiskey."

Dyson lifted it just out of her reach, "Work first."

He set the bottle aside just long enough to help Kenzi to her feet. Her back to his chest he clutched her to him, Dyson kissed her neck softly pleased when she shivered in response. Kenzi leaned back against the strong man a smile firmly in place.

"Dyson," she whispered, "can't I have just a little sip now?"

His laugh rumbled through her back and lit the fire in her belly. "No," he informed her, "we need to start getting the garland and the lights up.

They argued playfully, Kenzi always reaching for the whiskey and Dyson always a step ahead of her and pulling it back. They worked in tandem, stringing the lights up and talking as they went. When the last of the lights and garland were in place, Kenzi stood back and watched as Dyson turned the lights out. Even though the day was still young, the white lights blazed brightly. Leaning against the tall, firm, man, Kenzi couldn't help but feel happy, content.

"I love you," she told him softly, gazing up at him as an uproarious smile overtook him. He lifted her up into his arms and spun around, holding her to him, Dyson was elated…this was…it just was.

* * *

"_A man has more character in his face at forty than at twenty-he has suffered longer."_

_-Mae West_

* * *

A/N: 20/25. Managed to whip this up while my AP kids worked on their final, so here we go, nice and early. I love all of the feedback, and some of it helped construct this chapter. I was skimming through them as I wrote and was so filled with love. Well have a happy Friday!


	21. A Cup

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_21 December, 2013_

"Dyson, my _man_," Hale exclaimed as they sat at the bar, "I don't know how to thank you!"

Dyson nodded tightly, "No problem, 'tis the season, after all."

Hale hooked his hands on the lapels of his suit and straightened the jacket. "This is…this is awesome, man."

"Ah, you may as well have some fun," the wolf told the siren.

Said siren bent his knees as he twisted with excitement, "But _twins_, I can't believe this."

"Save the excitement for later," Dyson reminded his partner humorously.

Hale stopped short as he paced, "Hey, _I_ have never had a that problem before."

"There's always a first for everything," Dyson commented offhandedly.

The other man glared at him, "And how are you things with you and Lil' Momma?"

"They're good," Dyson straightened slightly.

"Come on," Hale complained, "you can't just say that."

The curly haired man leaned back in his chair, "It's the truth."

And it was. Things had been progressing with Kenzi. She seemed happier with each day that passed. Things felt natural at the very least. While Dyson _did _have almost all the time in the world and he did want to be with Kenzi, there wasn't particularly any rush to the way things had been going. They felt natural. Although, Dyson did have to consider that he had been close friends with Kenzi for several years. That bond had, he supposed, advanced their relationship more than any number of dates or gifts could ever have.

When Dyson was just a young cub, he had believed that romance was and had to be a blazing inferno. With age he had realized, through watching others that those relationships and marriages very quickly fell apart. As he learned, his interests and priorities had changed. But then, that was true of nearly everyone. Dyson was looking for permanency, someone who he could settle down with. He had spent fifteen-hundred years more or less alone, it was past time.

Kenzi looked to be what he needed. She was stronger than anyone he had ever met, she had more heart, and she could match him move for move. Things were not simply 'good', they were wonderful, excellent, miraculous, even. Dyson was almost waiting for the other shoe to drop things were so great. That had yet to happen. He had thought the other shoe had dropped when Kenzi had frozen under the tree, but he had to remind himself that Kenzi wasn't aware of his long struggle. She had believed for a very long time that he was in love with Bo. That had been a very difficult problem to solve. In the end the truth seemed to be the most beneficial.

"Dyson," Bo appeared before as if summoned by his thoughts, "can we talk for a minute."

"Of course," he responded carefully.

Hale swallowed, his ebullience dampened for the moment, "I'm going to go…over there."

Dyson's muscles tightened in anticipation of one more Bo-sized blowout.

She sat down beside Dyson, "So you and Kenzi?"

He only nodded.

"You love her," Bo asked, expecting Dyson's tight-lipped responses.

"I do."

Her face paled a little, "Why now, when did you start loving her?"

"I think I always cared for her more than I should have as a friend," Dyson admitted. Bo deserved some answers after everything he supposed. "As for the timing, I guess I just got tired of waiting and watching her."

"Even when you were with me," Bo asked for confirmation.

"Bo," Dyson clenched his hand into a fist, "I care for you, I just don't love you like you deserve to be."

She nodded slowly, "Okay. Just promise me something."

Dyson looked at her in surprise. He had been expecting something more explosive, angry. "What?"

"Don't hurt her," Bo told him quietly. "She's the most important person in my life, and I don't think I could handle of _this_ without her."

"I promise," Dyson gave his word quickly, he had already sworn to himself to protect Kenzi come hell or high water. "So, we're good?"

"I don't about good," Bo shrugged, "but I'd say we're friends." The succubus held her hand out for Dyson to grip. This was a step in the right direction.

"Works for me," the wolf said with a smile. "So you and Tamsin seemed to be getting closer."

"She's actually pretty cool, for a cop," Bo laughed.

"Former," Dyson corrected.

Bo shrugged, "May be why she's so much fun. We're planning a drunken caroling fest, want to join in?"

Dyson shook his head, "Someone needs to bail you out when you both get arrested. Kenzi and I will handle that, but feel free to drag Hale along."

Bo smirked, "He's Tamsin's new whipping boy. She actually made him her footrest the other day."

"During game night," Dyson asked covering a laugh.

"No," Bo shrugged, "we ran into him at lunch one day. He really didn't have any way to fight."

Dyson could only glance over at his friend, "Well he's a big boy."

Bo set her chin on her hand and leaned on the counter, "I almost feel sorry for the guy."

"Almost," Dyson agreed, "but not really."

"What did you do," Bo asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Dyson smiled innocently.

"Right," Bo shook her head, "well I'm going to run and avoid the fallout from whatever you've done."

"Night," Dyson called over his shoulder as Bo left him for the great unknown.

* * *

Kenzi had been out and about all day running errands, collecting presents, and maybe pulling a few cons. After stopping at the Clubhouse and dropping off her haul and removing her costume, Dyson had called and practically demanded that she hurry over to the Dal for a night at their favorite watering hole.

After a little grumbling and playful arguing, Kenzi had finally agreed when Dyson had told him if she didn't she would miss the best worst-date in the history of the universe. Kenzi never could resist a best-worst. It was like asking if she liked drunken charades. It was an obvious answer. Who _didn't_ love drunken charades? It was just about the most amusing thing you could do.

* * *

When she did deign to grace Dyson with her presence, he had eagerly kissed her and helped her into her seat, one eye across the bar on Hale.

"I feel loved," Kenzi huffed teasingly at the hurried attention.

Dyson patted her knee but didn't respond or turn to face her. He had much more important things to watch at the moment. What he didn't see was Kenzi getting more and more annoyed. And it was not a playful annoyance. With a sly hand, Kenzi reached up to Dyson's neck and with a quick jerk tugged the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

He grunted in pain and his head moved to face a not so happy Kenzi. She glared at him, "You insist I come down here and then you ignore me. Awesome! Exactly what I wanted to do tonight." She spun around on her stool and with one finger ordered a beer.

Dyson sighed. Somehow he had managed to screw up. "I'm sorry, Kenz."

"Don't really want to hear it," she informed him as she popped a pretzel from the bowl on the bar into her mouth.

He set a hand on her lower back, slowly stroking her skin in a soothing manner, "I'm really sorry."

"Uh-huh," Kenzi ignored him and took a huge of gulp of beer that trick set in front of her.

"I'm sorry I ignored you," Dyson told her slowly, "that was wrong of me, I just didn't want to miss anything."

Okay, maybe she was overreacting. It wasn't like he had done something really terrible, like ignored her in favor of another woman, or tried to eat her, or sell her, or trade her for a car… Sighing, Kenzi turned to face the genuinely sorry man, "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have snapped, but you in my defense, a girl kind of likes to be looked in the eyes when she's out with her…wolf-man friend?"

Dyson nodded, lifting her chin so he could do precisely that, "You look beautiful, and I think calling me your boyfriend might be just enough."

"So much for creativity," Kenzi shrugged. "So what exactly is going to be the best worst-date?"

"I owed Hale a little payback," Dyson told her with a smile. "So I set him up with a few friends."

"Plural," Kenzi asked intrigued, a curious smile playing on her pink lips.

"Twins," Dyson clarified tipping his head to the other side of the Dal where Hale was sitting rather impatiently at a booth.

The siren shot to his feet as two very tall, very leggy redheads stepped into the Dal. Kenzi raised an eyebrow, "Friends?"

"_Just_ friends," Dyson said with a smile. "Trust me."

Kenzi tipped her head to lean against Dyson, "Okay."

The pair watched as Hale nearly tripped over his own feet in an attempt to meet the twin redheads at the door. He failed, but managed to recover so that he was at least semi-composed when the two smiling women stopped before him. Over the other noise in the Dal, neither Kenzi nor Dyson could hear what was going on, but that didn't, on the whole, matter.

Both of members of the audience could clearly see Hale's trademark half-chuckle half-smirk. He extended his arms to the two ladies and led them to the booth. Hale, while not short, was significantly shorter than the twins.

"This _is_ good," Kenzi informed Dyson, "but I wouldn't say it's the best-worst."

Dyson slid his hand into hers, lacing their fingers and squeezing gently. "Give it a chance."

"Fine," Kenzi sighed, drinking her beer and curling a little closer to Dyson.

The date continued, drinks arriving, hands wandered mischievously, and Hale looked like the tomcat that got the pussycat. _That_ however was short lived as a game of pool began and Hale became the twins' plaything. Kenzi had always been a fan of being 'taught' how to do something, any sort of body pressing against body all in the disguise of teaching was titillating. She certainly wasn't alone in that thought. It was, after all, a very popular ploy. Hale, however had just learned that, perhaps, he didn't like it quite so much as he had. He had bent over to take his shot only to find one of the twins plastered to his back.

Kenzi watched as Hale's face went droopy. Dyson coughed softly, choking back a fit of laughter. "What," Kenzi asked eagerly.

Dyson tugged Kenzi closer, "Let's just say Hale just got a _very_ unexpected surprise."

A frown tugged at Kenzi's face, her mind spinning furiously trying to figure out the joke. She watched the twins carefully. Their mannerisms, their quirks…and then it hit her. "Drag queens," Kenzi blurted out in amazement. "You set Hale up with drag queens?"

"Possibly," Dyson told her.

"Oh," Kenzi exhaled in the pure hilarity. "We have to go, now, before Hale manages to escapes and comes over here to kill you."

Dyson stood up with a nod, "Not a bad idea."

* * *

Kenzi and Dyson had spent the ride back to his place in near tears at Hale's expense. They had tossed a variety of possible endings back and forth. The winner of the 'what-if' game was Hale being tag-teamed with no escape possible. They had ultimately decided that Hale deserved what he got. Hale _really_ needed to learn the consequences of his actions.

When they arrived, Kenzi could only smile as Dyson pressed a silver, two-handled, cup covered in Celtic etchings into her hands. It was absolutely filled with varying shades of purple and white calla-lilies. She supposed it was an odd vase, but Dyson wasn't exactly the vase type of guy.

"Thank you," she inhaled the sweet scent of the flowers. "You're so sweet."

Dyson took the cup of flowers from her, setting them on the table, and pulled her into the circle of his arms. "I love you Kenzi."

"Love you too," she rose onto her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips, her fingers drifting to the buttons of his shirt. The utter surprise of the flowers had reignited her blood. She had never felt this way about a man before, but then again, she had never been with a man like Dyson. Someone who cared so much. Someone who did little things to make her smile just because he could.

For Kenzi, there really was no one else but Dyson.

Hi hand slid under her shirt, sliding along the bare skin of her spine. She pulled back and tugged him towards the couch, "Wanna fool around?"

Her question startled a bark of a laugh from Dyson, but he followed her, tumbling on top of her, hands and mouth eagerly taking of the task at hand.

* * *

"_When I was one-and-twenty / I heard a wise man say, / `Give crowns and pounds and guineas / But not your heart away.'"_

_- A. E. Housman quotes_

* * *

A/N: 21/25. I thought it was about time that Bo and Dyson talked. I hate drama. So it had to happen. Hale just can't seem to catch a break, well, perhaps Christmas eve will be kinder…but then again I don't really have much control over that. On another note, on my first day of holiday I went Ice Skating at a local rink. I only fell twice, and only once was on me. It was a lot of fun, but now I'm a little sore. I hope you all had a nice Saturday! Thanks for all the love, and I'll see you all tomorrow. Ta!


	22. Cloth

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_22 December, 2013_

Kenzi woke when she tried to turn. She was, she soon realized, bundled up like a child on a cold winter's night. She attempted to roll, but that was impossible. It took all her effort to just wiggle her arms free, and just as she managed to do that, Dyson appeared at the bedroom door holding a tray and growling.

"Little help," Kenzi asked as she struggled against the covers.

"No can do," Dyson answered lowly, "I have plans for you."

She tracked his steps across the floor and toward the bed, "That's not ominous or nothing."

He laughed softly, knelt on the bed and settled the tray just over her knees. "Breakfast," he presented before curling his arm under her shoulders and sliding her into more of a sitting position.

"Okay," Kenzi sighed, in an effort to placate Dyson, and reached for the fork and knife only to have Dyson grab her hands and press them back onto the bed. "Alright, teasing isn't nice."

Dyson laughed and settled onto the covers beside Kenzi, "I'm not."

"Right," Kenzi paused, "except you're not letting me eat."

In response, Dyson picked up the fork and cut into the pancakes on the plate, they oozed chocolate, "I'm going to let you eat, Kenz." He lifted the fork from the plate and held it up to her pouting lips, "Open."

With a little glance from the corner of her eyes Kenzi accepted the buttery, chocolaty, deliciousness. Dyson watched Kenzi chew and swallow. His pride swelled when a moan slithered between her lips. She was watching him from beneath her lashes. Kenzi wasn't quite sure what Dyson was up to, but for the moment she wasn't going to complain, okay maybe she was a little. Being tied up wasn't exactly on her list of fun-time activities…okay, maybe it _was_, but usually it was preceded by things.

After another few bites of pancake and a drink of milk, Kenzi turned her head to face her captor. "So what's the big idea?"

Dyson set the fork down with a little click, "The big idea, is that you're going to stay in bed today and I'm going to keep you company."

"All day," Kenzi asked Dyson curiously.

"All day," he confirmed.

Kenzi shifted as much as she could. Straining her legs to get a little more freedom, "All day, what if I need to go to the bathroom?"

"I'll carry you," Dyson offered easily. "Your feet are not going to touch the floor and you aren't going to do any work."

Kenzi frowned, "Who put you up to this?"

"No one," Dyson assured her, dropping a kiss on her cheek. "I just want to take care of you."

"Right," Kenzi drawled, "but that doesn't mean you have to tie me up."

"Well," Dyson cocked his head to the side, "it doesn't mean I _can't_."

Kenzi shook her head against the pillow, "So all day we're just going to lay here and do nothing?"

"I thought we might want to talk, maybe cuddle, and do anything else you want to," Dyson suggested.

"So if I had presents to wrap…," Kenzi asked slyly.

Dyson sighed with a grin, "Then I'm wrapping presents."

Maybe being stuck in bed all day wouldn't be _so_ bad. She relaxed a little further into the pillows, letting Dyson continue to feed her. She had to admit he really had a talent with food. Being a chef wouldn't be a stretch for Dyson.

"I guess I don't really have a choice," Kenzi called as Dyson lifted the nearly empty tray from her lap and took it downstairs.

Kenzi arched her back and glanced to the bedside table and saw her phone. Rocking slightly, Kenzi reached for it. She couldn't grasp it, it was just a smidge too far. She tried again only to have her wrist caught by Dyson. He leaned across her and picked up the phone. He held it up, looking at it carefully as he sank down beside her.

"Can I have my phone," Kenzi asked in displeasure.

"Nope," Dyson shook his head, tapping the screen so it lit up.

Kenzi's whole body seemed to inflate before deflating, "Really?"

"Really. So what do you want to talk about," Dyson asked.

"I don't know," Kenzi shrugged. "You're the one who started this."

The tall man rolled onto his side, leaning on his elbow, "Tell me about your childhood."

Kenzi turned her head to watch him, "I was born at home. I grew up wild as any child, running and hiding the grass and the woods."

"How did you come to be here," he pushed.

Kenzi's face hardened slightly, a mask to hide behind, "I was dancing. I was dancing in New York. My father had already passed, my mother came with me, I was only twelve at the time."

"When did you start dancing," Dyson pressed.

"My father used to say that came out dancing, and I charmed god himself into blessing me with such grace," Kenzi smiled faintly.

"He sounds like he loved you a lot."

"He did, he does," Kenzi told him. "He was a good man, he died rescuing some kids from a frozen lake when I was…nine. I got a scholarship to dance and go to school in the states. My mom met my stepdad not too long after. We never really…got along. He hated when I laughed too loud…I left home when I was fifteen, I gave up the ballet and I dyed my hair and I left."

Dyson hadn't known that, he had been well aware that Kenzi had more street smarts than most young women, but he had always figured she had grown up fairly normal. At least for a human.

"Why did you leave home," Dyson asked, curling his hand around hers.

Kenzi blinked slowly, "New York was never home. Home was Russia with my father and my grandparents, with my cousins running in the sunlight. New York was…it wasn't home."

"What about now," he asked curiously, he wanted to know. Needed to.

Kenzi shifted minutely, "I stopped being a lone wolf when I met Bo, pardon the metaphor."

"Pardoned," Dyson kissed her cheek.

"I guess this sort of has become home," Kenzi smiled faintly. "I have Trick as the overbearing but loveable grandfather, Bo and Tamsin as sisters, and Hale as the annoying little brother."

He laughed at the idea of Hale being the _younger_ brother. "And what about me," Dyson asked after a moment.

"What about you," Kenzi asked straight-faced.

Dyson frowned good-naturedly, "What role do I play in this little family."

The dark haired woman frowned in thought, "Well, I always wanted a dog."

His laughter was a rough bark, "A dog?"

"I suppose I could be convinced to upgrade you to boyfriend," Kenzi grinned sharply, always the mischievous girl at heart.

"Mhm," Dyson smiled at the tiny woman, "I'm sure you could be." He ran his fingers lightly through her hair, "Do you ever talk to her, your mom?"

"No."

It was an abrupt answer. Flat. A clear end to that particular avenue of conversation. Dyson let it go. Instead, Dyson asked her about her days on the street.

"Meow Meow, Spring Lace, Heidi Dazzlebrook, and Roxie Sweetthighs were some of the best names I had," Kenzi informed Dyson.

Dyson frowned and spoke slowly, "Those sound oddly like—"

"Stripper names," Kenzi offered.

"A little bit," Dyson agreed.

"They weren't," Kenzi said. "When I wasn't grifting, I danced with another street performer, Tim. We were really good," she reminisced.

Dyson couldn't help but imagine Kenzi a little younger and little less burdened, dancing on a sidewalk, showing her heart and soul to all that watched. "What happened?"

"Tim went missing," Kenzi sighed. "He was my best friend and we kept each other sane."

"Did you ever find out what happened," Dyson asked.

Kenzi shrugged, "No, but I buried him a long time ago. After that I moved around a lot, didn't get attached. Until Bo, until you and Hale and Trick and the whole Fae nonsense."

"Nonsense," Dyson laughed softly. "So all of this is just nonsense?"

Kenzi sniffed lightly, "Most of it. I don't mind the party tricks, they're pretty fun."

"Kitten," Dyson traced her jaw line with his fingertip, "you are absolutely befuddling."

"I try," her shoulders rose and she smiled prettily.

They continued to talk, Dyson mentioning that her pet name of 'Kitten' was actually quite a good fit seeing as her main street name was 'Meow Meow'. Dyson told her of his childhood, growing up roughhousing and learning to fight. The pressure of being from a powerful line, the heartbreak of losing his pack to time and to war, and how much he missed the freedom some days. Dyson told her of little cultural quirks, the need for a man, a wolf-shifter especially, to demonstrate his ability to provide and care for his family. Kenzi had watched him carefully, his eyes hazing over with memories. It was rare to see Dyson lost in his memories, lost in the past he had lost hold of.

After another feeding session, a midmorning snack of fruit, Dyson had traced each vein in Kenzi's arm. She shivered as his blunt nail tripped along her skin. The wolf took an immense amount of pleasure in being able to stimulate her, even on such a small level.

She jerked her arm away from him, she couldn't take much more, her arm was itching, and she didn't think Dyson would take her attempting to scratch her skin off. "I want a bath," Kenzi paused after each word and ending with a gently curving smile.

After a moment's internal debate, Dyson nodded in assent. Kenzi smiled gleefully and moved to tear the covers off only to be restrained lightly. "No," he reminded her. "You are not allowed to lift even a finger, Kitten."

She sighed, and let Dyson carefully unwrap the layers, pulling the last back with a quick flourish and allowing a fresh breeze to caress her bare skin. It was a relief. While being bundled up and warm did bring a sense of comfort, Kenzi had always been a mover. She hated remaining still and quiet. She was born to dance and laugh and to bring joy. Her good mood exploded into white-hot bliss as Dyson slid his arms beneath her and lifted her up from the bed.

He perched her on the edge of the sunken tub as he started the bath. Kenzi watched him drizzle a dark caramel brown liquid in the rising water, bubbles burst forth, foaming and swirling in larger and larger numbers. Bubble bath, she couldn't help but realize with an amazed smile. Water running, Dyson turned to Kenzi and draped a large fluffy grey towel around her shoulders. Gentle motions slipped the straps of her tank top off her shoulder and letting the silk top slip down her belly. A little more choreography had Kenzi half on Dyson's lap her feet dangling in the bubbles.

"Impressive," Kenzi applauded Dyson's ability to keep her covered and modest even while _stripping_ her.

Towel secured around her chest, Kenzi was set into the bath fully. Dyson dragged his fingers through her hair, pulling the dark strands up and into a knot at the top of her head. A kiss pressed to her cheek as Dyson dropped his hand to skim the water.

"This is nice," Kenzi yawned lightly, eyes slipping closed as the warm water and chocolate and vanilla scented bubbles lapped at her skin, rocking her gently.

"Good."

The older man let his hands run along her skin, curling around her ankle and slithering up her leg. A washcloth soon joined Dyson's effort, tracing each millimeter of tender flesh, washing gently. She moaned as the soaked towel loosened from around her. The wolf inhaled sharply as even more skin was exposed. The bubbles concealed most of her skin, but as she shifted with each breath the towel slid further down in the water, eventually dropping away from her skin entirely.

Boldly, Dyson's hand trailed upward, waterlogged washcloth floating just above her skin. Brushing the warm cloth across her shoulders and collarbone, Dyson dipped his hand beneath the water, fingers gliding between her breasts, down her belly and sliding over to cover her hip. When he glanced back up Kenzi's eyes were open, watching his face, eyes dark and breathing heavy.

"Dyson," she whispered huskily, water shifting as she raised one arm to grab at him. It never reached him as h caught it and tucked it back beneath the surface.

"No," he told her.

* * *

"_If someone were to tell me I had twenty years left, and ask me how I'd like to spend them, I'd reply 'Give me two hours a day of activity, and I'll take the other twenty-two in dreams.'"_

_- Luis Buñuel quotes_

* * *

A/N: 22/25. I really rather like this chapter. Even though there was no physical gift, I think that the expression of his affection and Dyson's commitment to Kenzi. Three more chapters to go and I'm sort of hoping I can crack 100 reviews by Christmas. As it is, I'm entirely blown back by the support and love that you all have shown this story and me. Lots of Love, Ta!


	23. Lotion

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_22 December, 2013_

After a long day of pampering, Kenzi was finally returned home in time for some cookie baking with Bo and Tamsin…which explained why Kenzi woke up in a tangle of limbs on Bo's bed to the clinking of bottles and the slight snores of Tamsin. Struggling to raise her head, Kenzi glanced over the scene. Bo was half off the bed. Her head dangling downward, Tamsin was sprawled in the middle and half on top of Kenzi. And, of course, littered around the trio were more than a few empties and half-empties.

The smallest of the three tried to pull herself into a sitting position only to have a hand grope her roughly in the upper body area. Kenzi froze at that.

"No more cookies," Kenzi decided. "I really need to stop falling asleep in public places."

Bo groaned and the bed rocked, "This isn't public."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"Whose boob did I just grab," Tamsin asked as she flexed her empty fingers.

Kenzi flopped back on the bed with a sigh, "Why don't you two just live together in debauchery?"

"We need a third for when we really want to screw with people," Tamsin offered.

Kenzi twisted so she could stare at the blonde, "Sometimes I wonder why you weren't drowned at birth?"

Tamsin shrugged, "I think they tried, if it's any comfort."

"No," Kenzi shook her head, "not really."

* * *

When Kenzi did manage to escape from the girl-pile, she bundled up and headed over to Dyson's. She let herself in with the key he had gifted her. The lights were dim, it was still early, and Kenzi had a pretty good feeling that Dyson was probably still in bed. With that in mind, Kenzi set her stuff down and slipped out of her shoes. She padded across the heated floors and up the stairs.

After pushing the bedroom door open slightly, Kenzi stood and watched the man in the bed. Dyson was indeed asleep, he was lying on his back, covers half off, bare chest rising and falling with each breath.

Shucking her shirt and her pants, Kenzi slipped into bed beside Dyson, curling up to the man. He stirred lightly, one eye opening to peer at her before his arm pulled her flush against him.

"Good morning," Kenzi kissed his chest, hand trailing up and down his stomach and through the fine trail of hair.

"Morning," Dyson inhaled and caught her hand with his and brought it up to his face. He pressed a kiss the soft flesh on the inside of her wrist. "I thought you and the girls were going to hang out last night?"

"We did, and I left this morning after some unexpected groping," Kenzi slid her cold feet between Dyson's legs. "Tamsin is really sort of handsy."

He rolled slightly so he could pull Kenzi against his chest, "I'm going to need a little more of an explanation than that, Kenz."

"We passed out in Bo's bed, and that was where we all woke up," Kenzi expanded.

"I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to feel about that," Dyson frowned into Kenzi's hair.

"I'm feeling a little violated, if that helps you any," Kenzi nuzzled Dyson's chest, inhaling the musk.

"Maybe you shouldn't be living with two women who are so randy," Dyson muttered.

"Two?"

"Tamsin has been practically living with you and Bo," Dyson hinted.

Kenzi shrugged, her chilly nose dragging along Dyson's warm flesh. "Tam-Tam is a friend, so she stays over."

"I'm just saying maybe with Tamsin hanging out so much with Bo, you and I can spend a little more time together."

Kenzi laughed, her hot breath hitting Dyson's chest and turning cool, "You _do_ realize that I've spent more time with you in the last twenty-two days than I have nearly our entire friendship."

"So," Dyson asked.

She didn't really have a clear answer, "I'm just saying we've been hanging out a lot."

"We have not been 'hanging out'," Dyson corrected. "We've been getting to know one another better, building our relationship."

Kenzi wrinkled her brow at the heavy thoughts, "What were we discussing?"

Dyson shifted downward in bed, pulling Kenzi up so they were eye to eye, "Why you should probably just move in with me."

"I think you might have a gas leak, because you're talking crazy," Kenzi said lightly.

Dyson stroked her cheek, coaxing her to open her eyes and look at him, "Is it that crazy?"

"Sort of," Kenzi pointed out. "What if you find out that I like to tie shoelaces in triple knots or I can't sleep without whale song? Then we're living together and can't stand each other."

"Whale song," Dyson asked, "that's the best you can come up with?"

"That's not an answer."

"Yes it is," Dyson told her. "I will love you no matter what, even if I find you making your own soap on stove."

"What if I find out you have fleas," Kenzi offered with a hint of smile.

"Then I'll let you give_ me_ a bath," Dyson rubbed his nose against hers. "Come on, Kenz."

She huffed, "I'm really not seeing any _clear_ advantages to living with you."

"We'll get to spend our first Christmas together," Dyson suggested.

Kenzi returned the Eskimo kiss, "That would be nice, but we've only been dating for a week and a half."

"But we've been friends for years," Dyson argued.

"And you were sleeping with my current roomie for much of that," Kenzi pointed out.

"A week and a half is really like sixteen weeks, in dog years," Dyson continued.

Kenzi frowned, "You do realize you're not actually a dog, right?"

"I'm a wolf, which means it's actually much longer."

The dark haired woman shoved Dyson's chest lightly, "You're being ridiculous. And this is _so_ not the time for it."

"Come on, Kenzi," Dyson cajoled. "We're in love, we've basically been living together for weeks, we're exclusive, neither of us _need_ to move, and clearly your nervous enough for the both of us."

"Dyson," Kenzi glared, "we haven't even had our first fight, at least not about anything important. We're still in the stupid honeymoon phase."

Dyson sat up and looked down at the petite human, "I know everything I need to know about you, you are fiercely loyal and strong, you never back down, even when you probably should, and you would sacrifice everything for anyone you love. Kenzi I don't want to have to go to bed without you or wake up alone."

"That's not…," Kenzi sighed and rolled over, "A week and a half."

Dyson lay down behind Kenzi, curling around her body. "The only thing that really matters," Dyson murmured against her ear, "is if you want to be with me every day. If you can see yourself exactly like this?"

Kenzi tucked her chin, pulling her legs up and assuming the fetal position. "That doesn't mean that we should live together."

"Would it be that horrible?"

"No," she breathed.

"Where do you think this relationship is going," he pressed.

"I don't know," she whined.

"I'm not playing around, Kenz," he growled lowly. "I'm in this for the long haul, house, white picket fence, hell I'm in it for the puppies. And I want you to be in it too."

"I'll talk to Bo," Kenzi sighed.

* * *

"Bo," Kenzi called as she held the bag of Italian food and the bottle of wine while slamming the door shut with her foot.

"Kenz," Bo yelled back.

"I brought lunch!"

Bo appeared in the kitchen wrapped in a robe and hair up in a towel. "I smell lasagna."

"Yes you do," Kenzi grinned.

Bo eagerly dug into the paper bag and the silver foil containers. Kenzi watched her best friend. She felt…guilty. For a long time it had been Bo and Kenzi against the world and the Fae. They made a pretty kick-ass duo. So Kenzi had been a little left out at times, she and Bo were sisters. Kenzi had promised to always be there for Bo. It felt like just contemplating leaving the Clubhouse was breaking that promise.

"Are you going to dig in," Bo asked fork halfway to her mouth.

Kenzi shook herself and ripped into a hunk of garlic bread, "Is it good?"

"Oh yeah," Bo moaned and laved the fork with her tongue. "This sauce is delicious."

"Yeah," Kenzi asked.

After another few bites and another few sighs, Bo set her fork down. "What's wrong?"

"You know how Tamsin is always here," Kenzi asked.

Bo nodded, "Yeah. Is this about what happened this morning?"

"No," Kenzi exclaimed. "I mean it wasn't great for me, but it's not the first time I've groped in a dog pile."

"And as much as I need to hear _that_ story," Bo laughed, "what's going on?"

"Do you think our busty-blonde compadre might want to move in," Kenzi asked as she took another bite of bread.

"I'm not sharing my room," Bo said quickly, "I need my privacy."

Kenzi nodded, "I'm aware."

"Oh," Bo frowned. "You want to leave."

"No," the smaller woman rushed out. "No, sort of, maybe. Dyson thinks that I should move in with him."

"Wow," Bo responded. That seemed to be her response to much of the Dyson-Kenzi relationship. "I mean that's great…"

"But we've only been together for like eleven days," Kenzi agreed with her sister.

"Yeah."

"Yeah," Kenzi repeated.

They sat in silence, the food going cold. Bo eventually breaking the silence, "Do you want to?"

"I don't know. I love living with you and being here, and I don't want to lose _us_, but I like being with Dyson," Kenzi admitted shyly.

"Kenz," Bo said softly, "We're sisters, eventually we'll have to stop being just _us_ and be us plus two."

"But that's it, right now it's just us plus one."

Bo played with the food on her plate, "That's fine. It would be sort of weird if were like those people who are in relationships at the same time and then have double weddings with kitschy themes, and then have babies at the same time."

"So creepy," Kenzi added with a smile.

"Unnatural," Bo raised.

Kenzi laughed. "So maybe I do this on a trial run and we make time for us?"

"Yeah," Bo agreed, "besides I had dibs on you first, and we _do_ have a business together."

"Funny," Kenzi looked at the succubus who seemed honestly okay. "So should we tell Tamsin, or just let her squat here until she realizes what happened?"

"I vote the latter."

* * *

_Bang_, Kenzi kicked the front door, her arms weighed down by a multitude of bags. Dyson swung the door open quickly, leaning forward and lifting the weight from her easily. Free of her burdens, Kenzi beamed up at Dyson, "Yes."

The bags were set aside and Dyson lifted her off her feet and spun her around, "I love you."

"You're not going to love me when I take over your closet," Kenzi giggled into his neck.

"Yes I will," Dyson said. "Also, we've officially had our first important argument, and we survived, yet another sign that _this_ is a good idea."

"Prat," Kenzi muttered under her breath darkly. He always seemed to be right, at least about their relationship.

Setting her down, Dyson picked up her bags, "I'll go put these upstairs, we can unpack later."

"Why not now," Kenzi asked.

"We need to celebrate," Dyson called over his shoulder as he took the stairs two at a time.

Kenzi took the moment of solitude to glance around her new home. It was an odd concept, Kenzi had struggled to come to terms that home wasn't just Russia. Now, now it seemed obvious that Dyson's apartment, their apartment was home.

"How about a fire, some wine, and a massage," Dyson asked as he skipped down the stairs.

She dropped onto the couch, "You're a setting a bad precedent, now I'm going to expect to be spoiled all the time."

It was meant to be teasing, but Dyson could only grin ecstatically, "As you should be."

"Right," Kenzi rolled her eyes and watched as Dyson opened a bottle of white wine and poured two glasses.

He made quick work of building a fire and settling Kenzi on a blanket he'd spread out on the floor. Fingers slipped under her shirt, pushing it upward and over her head. The material was dragged down her arms and off entirely, her bra quickly followed. Dyson pressed a kiss to the back of her neck as she lay face down, another was pressed a few inches lower, then between her shoulder blades, the middle of her back, and the dip at her lower back. Kenzi shivered as Dyson stretched across her, his body heat radiating and prickling against her skin.

He sat back and a soft pop was heard before Kenzi inhaled sharply as a cold dollop of lotion hit her back. Dyson chuckled lowly as he began to rub the lotion into her skin, pressing and kneading her muscles delicately. His hands were warm and everywhere. They stroked her bare skin from fingertips to her neck down her back and sides, fingers grazing her breasts and playing along the curves of her hips.

Blinking slowly, Kenzi melted into the blanket beneath her. Dyson had the strange talent to utterly break down her defenses. She was little more than a puddle of goo in his hands. The scents of cocoa butter and Dyson were sinking into her, making her body thrum with excitement.

"Dyson," she moaned his name as he played her nerves expertly.

"Kenzi," Dyson said her name, voice hoarse with excitement.

She tipped her head to the side, glancing back so she could see him, "You're going to kill me."

"Not yet," he advised her darkly.

She whimpered, body tensing as his words sunk in, fire rushing through her body.

* * *

"_In twenty-three years of married life he had peered uneasily at every graceful ankle, every soft shoulder; in thought he had treasured them; but not once had he hazarded respectability by adventuring."_

_-Sinclair Lewis_

* * *

A/N: 23/25. Spent much of my afternoon/night running around trying to find last minute gifts that were impossible to find for one reason or another, but I managed to get this done. Yay! I really am enjoying the torture…Also I have hit 100 reviews, this is epic! I love you all, have a wonderful Denzi filled night!


	24. A Bottle of Whiskey, Redux

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_24 December, 2013_

"Kenz," the light in the living room flicked on, "what exactly are you doing?"

The tiny human sighed in defeat as Dyson watched her from the stairs. She was half under the tree, no doubt attempting to sneak an early peek at the presents there.

"Nothing," she tried, "I thought I saw a mouse?"

"Try again," Dyson snickered, moving to stand over Kenzi.

She grumbled as she admitted, "Fine I was trying to solve a mystery, you know I hate mysteries."

"Nice try, but you are in big trouble, Missy," Dyson hooked his fingers around Kenzi's hips and slid her out from under the tree.

Rolling over so she could look up at the shifter, Kenzi pouted, "Aw, come on D-man, it's Christmas!"

"No it isn't, Kenz," Dyson frowned.

"Practically," she hedged.

Dyson gripped her hands and hauled Kenzi to her feet, "It is Christmas Eve morning, and it's barely that."

"You're being a Grinch," Kenzi accused.

He snorted, "By preventing you from spoiling Christmas for yourself? Yeah, that's me."

She really had to restrain the urge to stomp the ground and leave in a huff. Kenzi settled for sticking her tongue out and heading up the stairs. And being the totally mature and responsible adult that she was, Kenzi locked the bedroom door and decided that Dyson was just going to have to wait until she had a nice long, hot, bath to do anything.

Dyson on the other hand set to work getting breakfast together. It was apparently going to have to be a 'to go' order because _somebody _couldn't be trusted alone in the house.

* * *

Kenzi opened the bathroom door in a waft of steam. She, after all, lived by the mantra of 'go big or go home'. She did nothing by half. If she was mad she was going to be Medusa part two, except with way better hair. And if she was going to have her little revenge, she was going to make Dyson suffer. Part one of that was using as much of the hot water as she possibly could, part two included the outfit she had decided on for the day.

Life was an eye for an eye, at least when it came to love and war. If Dyson insisted on torturing her…well, then he should be prepared for a taste of his own medicine. Form fitting dark-blue jeans and a scoop neck red long sleeve shirt with an open, lace-up back. Kenzi knew exactly what would set Dyson off. Of course it would be too easy if it was obvious.

Diving into the closet, Kenzi shifted through the duffles that had been left there for the moment. It was a task digging through the stacks of clothing for a sweater. It would, Kenzi figured, be easier in the long run to just unpack, but that wasn't how Kenzi lived. Not really. When the heather gray sweater in question was unearthed, Kenzi slipped it on and tied it closed.

"Car," Dyson's voice startled her enough to make her jump.

Spinning around, Kenzi shoved Dyson's chest roughly, "Make a noise, Frodo!"

"Frodo," Dyson asked. "Besides I did make a noise, I called your name three times."

Her ass he had. He just enjoyed sneaking up on her. It made him all smug and wolfy.

"Car," Kenzi asked.

Dyson nodded, eyes doing a full body walk. "Since I can't trust you to behave while I run errands before the party, you are going to have a play-date with the gang at the Dal."

"A _play-date_," Kenzi asked incredulously. "Seriously."

"Terribly," Dyson caught her wrist as she tried to push past him.

A soft click made Kenzi freeze, "You did not!"

White teeth bared, Dyson pulled Kenzi flush against him, "I did."

"Dyson," Kenzi tugged against the hold he had on her. It was futile for the moment. Her left wrist was held tight by the new adornment she'd been gifted with. "Handcuffs, seriously."

"You're repeating yourself, Sweetheart," Dyson said with a little concern, "Cat got your tongue?"

"More like a pesky fur-ball," Kenzi snapped.

"Words hurt," Dyson scolded softly. His lips came down on hers without warning, Dyson drawing the kiss from her possessively, forcefully. He let her go with a noticeable exhalation. "Car."

"Suck my metaphorical—," Dyson didn't let Kenzi finish her statement, curling his hand over her mouth with a raised eyebrow.

"Finished," he asked after she attempted to glare him to death.

Unable to express her annoyance verbally, Kenzi resorted to giving Dyson's palm a good long slobbery lick. When she had finished, she looked up at him in triumph. Well, it would be triumph if Dyson had actually reacted. He just quirked a brow as if to ask if she had _really_ just licked his hand.

"The hard way it is," Dyson cheerily answered for her. In a matter of seconds, Kenzi's free hand was cuffed as well and Kenzi was hefted up and over Dyson's shoulder. She let out an indignant gasp as the air rushed from her lungs

"I'm not wearing shoes," Kenzi yelped reaching her bound hands for the doorframe in a desperate effort to remain in the bedroom as Dyson began the walk out of the room.

"Good," Dyson bounced her a little, hand coming down on her behind, fingers clenching to keep her in place.

"I need shoes," Kenzi wriggled a little, trying to get loose.

Dyson squeezed her ass, "Not having shoes makes it a little harder for you to do anything that might get you into trouble."

"You would think that," Kenzi sighed, "but I'm inventive."

"Which is why the handcuffs are staying on until I've transferred custody," Dyson took the stairs carefully. He didn't doubt that Kenzi would try to bring them both down. She had a strange sense of safety. But that, he decided, was something that he liked about her.

* * *

Dyson kicked the door to the Dal open, Kenzi over his shoulder and still fighting. It was a necessary evil, he had things he needed to do today, and clearly she couldn't be trusted to behave herself.

"Dyson," Trick exclaimed, hurtling out from behind the bar, "is that Kenzi? Is she alright? What happened?"

"She's in trouble," Dyson growled, squeezing Kenzi's thigh tightly when she started to speak.

Trick shook his head, the concern evident in his voice, "What happened?"

"Nothing," Kenzi grunted, kicking her bare feet trying to at least whack Dyson a little bit.

"Is that _actually _Kenzi," the ancient bartender asked on the off-chance that lightning _had_ struck twice.

"Yes, Trickster," Kenzi growled. "This oaf is being a pig-headed prat."

"That hurts, Kenzi," Dyson sniffed delicately.

"Put her down, Dyson," Trick frowned, "and where are her shoes?"

"Yeah where _are_ her shoes," Kenzi asked as she was dropped onto a barstool.

Trick shook his head, tired face hiding a hint of a smile, "Now exactly what is going on?"

"She's a sneak," Dyson pointed a finger at Kenzi. Kenzi smiled and showed him a finger of her own. "Uncalled for," Dyson said evenly.

"A sneak," Trick asked dubiously. "Kenzi?"

"She was sneaking around looking at her presents," Dyson informed Trick.

"Kenzi," Trick asked.

"There was a mouse under the tree," she defended herself.

Trick crossed his arms in disbelief, "You were freaking out about rats a few days ago and I'm supposed to believe that you voluntarily went after a mouse."

"Yes," Kenzi crossed her own arms face firmly set in a glare.

"Can you watch her for a few hours while I run some errands," Dyson asked Trick.

Trick uncrossed his arms and headed back around the bar, "If you take the handcuffs off.

Dyson assented to that and slipped Kenzi a quick kiss while Trick wasn't looking. "Behave yourself."

"Behave yourself," she mocked, voice nasal. Dyson ignored her and headed to the door. "Snitch," she yelled after him.

* * *

Shoeless, Kenzi moved around the bar hopping from chair to chair despite Trick's admonitions. She was shortly joined by Tamsin and Bo who had been summoned via text. They weren't exactly bouncing around the bar quite like Kenzi, but they were having more fun than was strictly safe. They had decided to play alco-tag, in which each time you were caught or touched home base you had to take a shot.

Though the Dal was closed down for the gang's Christmas Eve celebration, Trick was certain that having the bar open would be _less_ chaotic. "Daycare," he muttered darkly, "I run a daycare."

"Trick," Kenzi called as she spun across the bar top on her tiptoes, "this is what family is, fighting, wrecking shit, and making up over copious amounts of booze."

The older man sighed and turned away, heading to his storage room. "I miss being alone," he grumbled darkly.

"No you don't," all three girls called out sweetly.

* * *

"Oh thank god," Trick sighed in relief as Dyson entered the bar. "It's like they're high."

Dyson glanced around the bar and found that Trick's comment actually fit fairly well. Hale was running terrified from Tamsin while Bo was tossing and empty shot glass up and down. Kenzi, seemed to be the tamest of the group, she was only laying on the bar, hips grinding to a music only she could hear.

He patted trick's shoulder comfortingly before moving to drop a pair of Kenzi's heels on the bar by her head. At the sound, Kenzi's icy eyes snapped open and she pulled herself into a sitting position, legs bent before her. Without a word, Kenzi slid the velvet red heels on her feet, wiggling her bare toes in their new confines.

As she bent to take a closer look, Dyson couldn't help but frown, Kenzi had shed her sweater, a sweater which happened to have been covering up a great deal of soft skin that was now on display.

With one finger he traced just beneath the ribbons that kept the shirt tight against her stomach, "I think part of your shirt is missing."

"Is it," Kenzi asked innocently. "I hadn't noticed."

"Dinner," Trick called, "now that we're all here."

Dinner was a full affair of meats, breads, puddings, and the odd tart. Everyone ate with enthusiasm, Trick smiling fondly at his motley family. He had lived a long time alone, and as much as he complained, he wouldn't trade having his granddaughter, Kenzi, Dyson, Hale, and now Tamsin for anything.

* * *

After dinner had been cleared, Dyson slipped out of the room and returned with a bottle of very old, very fine whiskey which he set down before trick, mouth set into a serious line.

Trick glanced up at his old friend, "What's this for?"

"An offering so we can talk," Dyson glanced around the table at each of his friends.

Trick set his hands on the table, a frown falling into place, "What do we need to discuss?"

"I want permission to pursue Kenzi," Dyson answered shortly.

The girl in question choked on her glass of cider, "Say what?"

"I wasn't aware that you were in interested in Kenzi," Trick stared at the younger man. He was more than a little bowled over.

"I am," Dyson told his old friend and leader. "For some time."

Trick glanced around the table, eyes settling on each member of their pseudo-family for a moment. Hale, Tamsin, and Bo all looked slightly…bored. It was only Kenzi, who was still recovering from nearly choking on her drink, who looked shocked.

"Kenzi," Trick asked, "is this, has Dyson talked to you?"

Swallowing the mouthful of water, Kenzi shrugged, "Kind of?"

Trick frowned, "Why does it seem like the rest of you knew about this?"

"Because we _did_," Tamsin snorted. "It's like the most obvious thing in the world!"

"Girl's not wrong," Hale added.

"Bo," Trick asked cautiously.

"They've got so much chemistry I'm surprised they haven't started fires," Bo laughed nudging Kenzi lightly.

Trick sighed and cracked the seal on the whiskey, "Then I guess I have to give my consent, Dyson."

Dyson grinned and turned and kissed Kenzi soundly. "Thank you," he said as he pulled away.

"I can't believe I was the last to know," Trick sighed and began to pour out the whiskey, "To Kenzi and Dyson, and to family!"

"Here-here," Bo and Tamsin cheered loudly, both jostling to get the first glass of whiskey.

Kenzi's eyes were wide, "I kind of feel like _I_ was the last to know."

"Sorry," Dyson apologized to her. From his inner pocket he pulled out a tiny silver ring and held it out to her, "A sign of my promise to care for you and protect you."

If it were possible, Kenzi's eyes went wider, "Yeah…"

"Relax, Kenz," Dyson frowned, setting the ring in her palm. "It's not _that_ kind of ring."

Keniz scoffed, "Well good, 'cuz I am so not the marrying type." She didn't see Dyson roll his eyes, he knew her better than that. She inspected the thin silver ring, on the inside both of their names were etched, twined together by a heart. After a moment, Kenzi held it out to Dyson, extending her hand for him as well.

With a little laugh, Dyson slid it on her finger, "I now pronounce you off limits to everyone else, including Tamsin."

"Funny," Kenzi snorted, lacing her hand with his.

* * *

After a good deal of drinking and laughing, and a few presents being exchanged—most of them too raunchy to mention—Dyson excused them and took Kenzi home.

At the front door Kenzi paused, "Am I allowed in?"

"Yes," Dyson laughed as he unlocked the door, "those were decoy presents anyway."

"The hell," Kenzi exclaimed, "then why did I get handcuffed and kicked out?"

Dyson opened the door and urged Kenzi to walk in. The lights were off but the tree glowed brightly and beneath it was a stack of presents. Kenzi giggled and leaned back into Dyson, "Love you."

"I love you too, Kitten," Dyson held her closely. "I have one more present for you, Kenz."

He led her into the living room, pushing her to sit in the chair. Kenzi waited patiently, hands over her eyes in excitement.

"Open," he ordered.

Kenzi peeked through her fingers and quickly dropped her hands as she saw Dyson kneeling before her, holding his claymore stretched between his palms.

"I don't get it," Kenzi frowned.

"It's yours, Kenz," Dyson told her gravely. "Rings are a new tradition, for me…when I was young…a man would declare his intent by giving his sword to his woman. It means that I am pledging my sword to you, to protect you and do all I can to protect you with it."

"Dyson," Kenzi smiled softly hand tracing the heavy blade. It seemed, to the little human that Dyson's mere presence was wrapping around her, a veritable safety blanket.

* * *

"_Repartee is something we think of twenty-four hours too late."__  
__-Mark Twain_

* * *

A/N: 24/25. One more chapter to go! I'm a little sad too, that tomorrow this will be over. I really do love writing these stories; they are a perfect holiday treat. I guess I'm just mourning the fact that Denzi is really only every going to be in my dreams…and in AUs where Bo is MIA. It is Christmas Eve, and I hope you all have a wonderful morning. Lots of Love!


	25. A Bell

Disclaimer: I do not own _Lost Girl_, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)

* * *

_25 December, 2013_

"Dyson," Kenzi whispered softly as she kneeled on all fours over Dyson's unconscious body. "Dyson, time to wake up," she popped the 'p' in excitement.

When the shifter didn't respond, Kenzi bounced lightly, trying to shake him awake. Kenzi wasn't exactly patient. She had waited long enough, now it was time to get drastic. Stealing from the room, Kenzi made her way to the kitchen wrapped up in one of Dyson's t-shirts. There wasn't a real need for a robe or for warm clothing, despite snow falling outside, the apartment was warm enough to mimic a spring day.

Normal girlfriends might make their boyfriends breakfast in bed, the usual eggs, toast, bacon, and a cup of coffee. Kenzi was not normal. Sure, Kenzi fully intended to make Dyson breakfast in bed, just not in the usual way. After a little searching, Kenzi had rustled up the correct ingredients and was ready to start on breakfast.

* * *

Kenzi sat across Dyson's lap hand braced against his lower stomach. Head tilted to the side, the young woman dipped her head and licked a circle around Dyson's belly-button. She grinned and kept lapping at his skin as she felt the muscles beneath the tanned skin flutter. Kenzi licked her lips, chocolate was delicious, Dyson was delicious, so it stood to reason that chocolate covered Dyson would be doubly delicious…and boy was Kenzi right.

She had painted swirls of chocolate all along Dyson's bare torso. Chocolate outline each curve and depression of his body. Kenzi nipped gently at Dyson's side, her tongue flat against his skin as she dragged the chocolate from his body and into her mouth. Slowly, as she cleaned Dyson's body, Kenzi move upwards, hips pressing down into the man beneath her. At his pectorals, Kenzi suckled lightly, moving upward to the lump in Dyson's throat. She purred against his adam's apple before moving up and pressing a chocolaty kiss to the man's lips.

She jumped a little when hands rose to her hips and tugged her more firmly against Dyson, his lips coming alive and mounting an offensive. Kenzi squealed as Dyson smiled against her lips and flipped them over, his weight bearing down on her and creating friction.

"Merry Christmas," Dyson breathed against her lips.

Kenzi hiccupped a breath, "That's my line."

"I think you've already had enough fun without me," Dyson chuckled lowly, "mm, and so sweet of you to bring me the fixings for breakfast."

Kenzi frowned even as she met Dyson for several more brief kisses, "Again, that was my idea."

"Great minds think alike," Dyson offered as he helped Kenzi frantically strip the t-shirt from her body. "No bra," he smiled dangerously, lowering his nose to the hollow between her breasts and inhaling her natural scent.

Cradled between her hips Dyson surged forward and caught Kenzi's lips with his, pulling her legs up and around his hips. Kenzi moaned her back arching as Dyson pressed against her.

"Hello," Kenzi gasped as Dyson's frenzied hands and lips seemed to cover every inch of her skin with tingles and fire.

Dyson traced a path from Kenzi's lips down to her navel and back up, momentarily nuzzling each pert nipple before pulling away and reaching for the chocolate. Kenzi took the opportunity to run her hands around Dyson's strong hips and across his strong back.

Finger dripping in chocolate, Dyson held it above Kenzi's pale skin, "Seems a little unfair that you ate without me."

"Sorry," Kenzi grinned unapologetically. "I tried to wake you, really, I did."

He chuckled and let his finger drop to her left breast, circling her nipple and leaving a trail of dark chocolate staining her skin. She shivered beneath him, her muscles clenching in anticipation.

"Dyson," his name was an affirmation on her lips.

He watched as he eyelids slid closed, her breathing became ragged and her body trembled under his touch. It was addictive, the power he had over her, what he could do to her. With a smile, Dyson traced Kenzi's already bruised lips with his chocolate covered finger. She arched her neck and eagerly suckled at his finger, curling her tongue around it and cleaning it of chocolate.

When his finger was returned to him, Dyson lowered his mouth to Kenzi's once more before he kissed along her jaw, her neck, the juncture of her shoulder, her breast… Kenzi moaned loudly as Dyson's hot mouth enveloped her flesh, tugging and sucking, playing her effortlessly. His ministrations continued downward, his fingers eventually hooking in the lace of her underwear and slipping them down as his mouth continued on its path.

Kenzi lifted her hips, reaching for Dyson even as he moved away from her slightly. Dyson had Kenzi on balancing on the edge of a knife, she was achingly close to losing it. Already her thoughts were slipping away to make room for much more pleasurable sensations.

With one last smug glance at her, Dyson bared Kenzi to him, hands running up and down her legs.

* * *

"Holy mother of a wolf," Kenzi breathed when her senses had returned. To be truthful, Kenzi was pretty sure she had passed out a little. Okay maybe a lot.

Panting, Dyson pushed himself up onto his elbows, and kissed Kenzi softly, sweetly on the lips. "You okay, Kenz?"

Kenzi curled her arms up and around Dyson's back, dragging him back down on top of her. "Perfect," she whispered, her voice weak. "Love you."

"I love you too," he hugged her close, pressing a kiss to her cheek and then the side of her neck.

She giggled as his beard grazed her oversensitive skin, "Don't start something you aren't going to finish."

"Who says I wouldn't finish," Dyson asked, twisting his hips a little just to prove his point. Kenzi moaned which turned to a grown quickly.

"You're going to kill me."

* * *

Dyson and Kenzi had been forced, after some lazy hours in bed, to actually solve the problem that happened to be their sticky skin. Kenzi had started to squirm beneath Dyson, not quite enjoying the sensation of their skin peeling apart.

The couple had spent a good chunk of time beneath the hot spray of water and getting wonderfully squeaky clean. Kenzi had particularly enjoyed Dyson's undivided attention as he washed her hair, massaging her scalp and neck. Kenzi had happily returned the favor as Dyson knelt to run his soapy hands down her stomach and legs.

It was a little weird, their whole relationship. It almost felt like Kenzi had stolen a Zonda and gone from oblivious to sixty in 2.6 seconds. The promise ring on Kenzi's finger glinted in the warm lights of the shower. She had sort of, mentally, freaked out about the whole thing. Kenzi had grown up knowing that she would probably marry young or not at all. After her father's death things had changed. Moving to America and then running away to Canada had changed her entire life plan. She had put aside most of her cultural values and tried to fit in with others her age.

Even after joining the Fae world, Kenzi had tried to date and be as normal as she could. It didn't work. She wasn't fully settled in either world, she straddled a line that didn't allow for the typical. Dyson had slammed into her and knocked her fully into the Fae world. He was determined and Kenzi was simply bowled over. She had gone from platonic supporter to girlfriend…a very serious girlfriend.

Luckily, if Kenzi was anything, she was adaptable. She could roll with the punches with the best of them. Of course, inevitably, she would probably have an epic freak out and likely attempt to run away back to Bo. For now, Kenzi was going to live in the happy moment. It _was_ Christmas after all.

It was Christmas, so Kenzi sloughed off the water still clinging to her skin, turned off the faucet and slicked her hands through Dyson's hair.

"Come on," she urged him to his feet, "we can stay here all day."

"Really," Dyson pressed a kiss to Kenzi's lower stomach before rising. "I think if we tried we could."

"You're such a boy," Kenzi cried out, smacking the wolf's broad shoulder in laughter.

* * *

It took some effort to actually get dressed, Dyson wasn't exactly being helpful. He was actually being quite _un_helpful. It seemed as though every step forward was a step back, Kenzi's clothes thrown askew and Kenzi herself dropped more than once on the bed.

"Ridiculous," she yelped as she tugged her shirt right again, twisting and spinning to escape Dyson's grasp.

He stumbled, lunging after Kenzi, "Kenz!"

Her feet pattered across the wood floor, skittering down the stairs. Dyson followed quickly, not ready to let the game go, he was having too much fun. He caught her in the living room, tackling her to the couch, rolling her so he didn't crush her under his weight.

"Dyson," she groaned. "You're acting like a _giant_ puppy!"

"Am I," he asked.

Kenzi didn't wait for his next move, she rolled off of him and dodged to the tree, picked up a present she had wrapped and tossed it at the man on the couch. He caught the box and shook it gently, playfully grinning at Kenzi.

"Is it a bone," he asked.

"Yeah," Kenzi mocked, "I got you a bone. Just open it."

Dyson ripped into the gold and silver paper, eyes locked on Kenzi. From the box and beneath tissue paper there was a cobalt blue tie curled into a roll surrounded by a rustic brown leather belt. Dyson slipped the tie out of the box and let it unfurl only to find that the underside of the tie had a small pocket made for a knife."

"Thank you, Kenz," he rose from the couch and pecked her lightly on the lips. "Your turn," he grinned picking up a box he had tucked near the back.

He set it in her hands with an odd sense of delicacy, "What is it?"

"You have to open it to find out," Dyson teased.

With one hand Kenzi popped the tape open and pulled the white cardboard lid up. Inside Kenzi spied something silver, something large and silver and curved. Careful fingers nudged delicate paper aside to unearth a silver bell etched with designs, predominantly hearts. "Is this so you'll come when I call?"

Dyson shook his head, "Not quite, another old tradition. It sits on the mantle, and during an argument, a ring of the bell ends it, without fault on either side."

Kenzi giggled and reached up and curled one hand around Dyson's neck, "Is this your get out of jail free card?"

Dyson bridged the gap between them, "Only a little," he whispered across her lips.

Kenzi spun in his arms, and stepped to the mantle setting the delicate silver bell on the bare surface. It was the centerpiece in more ways than one.

Dyson watched Kenzi as he flicked the stereo on lowered the lights, it was a snowy day, a little dark, but the light of the tree was all that was needed. A strong arm slipped around Kenzi's hips and tugged her backward, holding her close he began to sway gently. Kenzi covered his arm with hers, and matched her movements with his.

Kenzi slid around to face Dyson, "Are you asking me to dance?"

He tipped his head down to rest on the top of her head, one hand on the small of her back the other reaching to find her free hand. "Are you free," Dyson asked quietly.

Kenzi let Dyson pull their linked hands up to rest on his chest, her free hand braced on his shoulder. Slow dancing in the light of the Christmas tree. It was really, rather, sort of nice. It was very ordinary…domestic, even. Kenzi let her cheek rest on Dyson's chest as they swayed.

With a peaceful smile, Kenzi glanced upward, "Are you asking?"

"Always," was Dyson's only response. "Always."

* * *

"_The conception of two people living together for twenty-five years without having a cross word suggests a lack of spirit only to be admired in sheep."__  
__-Alan Patrick Herbert_

* * *

A/N: This is the end, my friends. It seems so short and yet it feels so very long since this all started. I thank everyone who has read and especially those who have reviewed. Merry Christmas all, goodnight.


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